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WHEN I WAS A BOY 
IN KOREA 


CHILDREN OF OTHER LANDS BOOKS 


Independent Volumes With Characteristic Illustrations 
and Cover Designs i2mo Cloth 

There are many books about the children of other countries, but 
no other group like this, with each volume written by one who has 
lived the foreign child life described, and learned from subsequent 
experience in this country how to tell it in a way attractive to Ameri¬ 
can children — and in fact to Americans of any age. 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN CHINA, By Yan Phou Lee 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ITALY, By Marietta Ambrosi 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN JAPAN, By Sakae Shioya 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN GREECE, By George Demetrios 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PALESTINE, By Mousa J. Kaleel 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM, By Robert Jonckheere 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN RUSSIA, By Vladimir Mokrievitch 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN ROUMANIA, By Dr. J. S. Van Teslaar 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN HOLLAND, By Cornelia De Groot 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN MEXICO, By Mercedes Godoy 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ICELAND, By Holmfridur Arnadottir 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PERSIA, By Youel B. Mirza 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN SCOTLAND, By George McP. Hunter 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN NORWAY, By John 0. Hall 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN SWITZERLAND, By S. Louise Patteson 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN DENMARK, By H. Trolle-Steenstrup 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN INDIA, By Satyananda Roy 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN TURKEY, By Ahmed Sabri Bey 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN FRANCE, By Georgette Beuret 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN ARMENIA, By Manoog Der Alexanian 
WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN SWEDEN, By Anna-Mia Hertzman 
WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA, By Ilhan New 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 

BOSTON 


J 











WHEN I WAS A BOY 
IN KOREA 


BY 

ILHAN NEW 


ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 


> > > 
> > 

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BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 












D3w 

14 4 


Copyright, 1928, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
All Rights Reserved 
When I Was a Boy in Korea 


• • 


Printed in U. S. A. 

©Cl i 6 5 2 . 

i 


OCT -6’28 





EDITOR’S PREFACE 


With characteristically Oriental mod¬ 
esty, Ilhan New, author of this volume, 
has tended to obscure his own personality, 
writing most interestingly, but sometimes 
impersonally, of many experiences which 
his friends recognize as pages out of his 
own eventful life. So it becomes my task 
to write briefly of his career. 

Mr. New, whose native name, as he ex¬ 
plains, is New II Han, was the first-born 
son of New Kee Yun, a manufacturer of 
silks, a successful business man, a patriot, 
and a leader among the converts to Chris¬ 
tianity. 

The year of the author’s birth, 1894, is 
one significant in the history of Korea, 
“ Land of the Morning Calm.” Like Bel¬ 
gium, this kingdom was long a battle¬ 
ground for nations on either side; and in 

v % 

1894 Chinese armies met defeat at the 

5 


6 


EDITOR'S PREFACE 


hands of the Japanese, at the ancient 
Korean capital, Ping-Yang. That same 
year Korea was relieved of the obligation 
to pay annual tribute to the Manchu 
Dynasty in China, as she had done for 
several centuries in acknowledgment of 
Chinese supremacy. And 1894 also marked 
the third centennial of the entry of the 
first Christian missionary into the land, 
though Christianity was not firmly im¬ 
planted on the peninsula until about a 
hundred years before Mr. New’s birth. 

For a time, in early childhood, Mr. New 
lived in villages of Manchuria and north¬ 
ern Korea, but his boyhood was chiefly 
spent in Ping-Yang. This city disputes 
with Fusan the honor of being second in 
size and importance to the present capital, 
Seoul, where Mr. New is now engaged in 
business as an importer and exporter. 

In Ping-Yang he lived the typical life 
of the Korean boy of his class. He roamed 
the shores of the Ta-Tong River which 
winds southward and westward forty 


EDITOR’S PREFACE 


7 


miles to mingle with the tempestuous 
waters of Korea Bay and the Yellow Sea. 
He frolicked with other urchins in the 
shadow of the twenty-foot walls that forti¬ 
fied the city and made it strategically im¬ 
portant. He lolled in the shade of the 
mighty trees which, tradition insists, Ki- 
tse, the Chinese founder of Korean na¬ 
tionality, planted there three thousand 
years ago. He paid respectful homage to 
Ki-tse at his tomb, which is one of Ping- 
Yang’s sacred shrines. 

To be the son of a Christian father was 
no commonplace thing in Mr. New’s boy¬ 
hood. Korea is almost exactly the size of 
our State of Minnesota, but vastly more 
populous than any State in the Union. 
Of the 19,500,000 persons who live in that 
compact country, more than 19,000,000 
are Koreans, and less than 400,000 are 
Christians at this day. So to be a Chris¬ 
tian, even in Ping-Yang where there are 
numerous missions, was to be conspicu¬ 
ously different. 


8 


EDITOR’S PREFACE 


Mr. New’s father was much impressed 
with the things he learned of the life, cus¬ 
toms, and ideas of the New World, and he 
was a progressive exponent of Occidental 
culture. For example, he was one of the 
first to cut his hair in defiance of age-old 
customs of his people. It was only natural 
that he should aspire to have his eldest 
son, who must one day become the head of 
the family, receive an education in Amer¬ 
ica. So, after much counsel with mission¬ 
aries, Ilhan was packed off across the 
Pacific, a boy of tender years and scant 
experience, in whom homesickness and 
ambition struggled for mastery. 

Kearney, Nebraska, a small agricultural 
town midway between the Pacific and 
Atlantic coasts, became his home. There 
he was welcomed into the simple, whole¬ 
some, domestic life of average Americans; 
and there he received all his primary and 
most of his secondary education. His 
senior year in high school was spent in the 
neighboring and somewhat larger town of 


EDITOR’S PREFACE 


9 


Hastings. There he might have attended 
college, carrying with him the reputation 
earned in Kearney and Hastings high 
schools as center on the football teams, 
and as a brilliant boy orator and debater. 
Instead, he chose to move eastward, to 
enlarge his understanding of America. In 
1916 he attended a summer session at the 
University of Michigan, enrolling there¬ 
after for a year of study in Michigan 
State Normal College at Ypsilanti. He 
then returned to Ann Arbor, graduat¬ 
ing with the class of 1919, having earned 
the degree of Bachelor of Arts and a spe¬ 
cial certificate in business administration. 

Following his graduation from college, 
he was employed in the accounting divi¬ 
sions of the Michigan Central Bailroad, at 
Detroit, and of the General Electric Co., 
at Schenectady, N. Y. This promising 
beginning of a business career he inter¬ 
rupted to associate himself with leading 
Koreans in work among his countrymen 
in the United States. Returning to De- 


10 


EDITOR'S PREFACE 


troit, lie conceived the idea of importing 
and manufacturing the materials for the 
preparation of Chinese foods in American 
homes. In 1921, he laid the idea before 
American friends, the result being the 
organization of LaChoy Food Products, 
Inc., and the development of a very pros¬ 
perous nation-wide business, of which he 
was vice-president and general manager. 
His success made him an outstanding 
young man among Americans as well as 
among his fellow Koreans. 

In Korea it is customary for a man to 
retire at the age of sixty-one, full of honor 
and dignity. The responsibilities that are 
then his as head of a family descend to his 
eldest son. While Air. New was launch¬ 
ing his business in Detroit, New Ivee Yun 
passed sixty-one, and his son felt strongly 
the urge to return to his native land, not 
only to accept his filial responsibilities but 
to serve his people by introducing into 
Korea as much as he could of American 
business methods and economic doctrines. 


EDITOR’S PREFACE 


11 


As soon as his many interests in America 
could be arranged to that end, he bade 
good-bye to his adopted country. But 
when he sailed for Seoul, he did not sail 
alone. 

In college at Ann Arbor he came to 
know Miss Mary Woo, an American-born 
Chinese. After her graduation from the 
University of Michigan, she studied medi¬ 
cine at Cornell University and the Uni¬ 
versity of Colorado. Upon receiving her 
degree from the latter institution, she be¬ 
came a house physician at the Highland 
Park Hospital in a suburb of Detroit. In 
1925 they were married. A boy he came 
from his native land; a man he returned 
to it. In the eyes of Koreans no male is 
entitled to recognition as a man until he 
is married. But for his American-horn 
romance, he could not now write “ When I 
Was a Boy in Korea.” His people would 
still view him as a boy. 

Lee A White. 


The Detroit News . 


CONTENTS 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

y. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 
IX. 

x. 

XI. 


Korean Customs 

Schools . 

Sericulture . 

Holidays and Games . 

Municipal Kite Contests and 
Fall Sports . . . . 

New Year’s Holiday . 

Korean Homes and Living . 

Korean Sweets, and Ginseng 


17 

43 

51 

57 

76 

85 

96 

117 


The Emperor and His Subordi¬ 
nates . 

The Capital . 

Important Mile-Stones 


125 

137 

154 


13 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Ilhan New and His Wife, Dr. Mary 

Woo New .... Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Candy Venders ..... 20 

Korea in Her Serenity .... 21 

The Teacher and His Country School . 48 

Swing Day ...... 49 

Sacrificial Tablet of Royal Tomb . . 68 

Monastery Nestled in Mountains . . 69 

Buddhist Temple ..... 69 

How a Korean Boy Handles his Kite- 
Reel .76 

Stone Buddha near Songdo ... 77 

Washing in the Stream .... 80 

Carving Ironing-Sticks .... 81 

Ironing after the House is Still . . 81 

Finery for the Holiday .... 86 

Preparing Flour for the Sweets . . 87 

The Feast ...... 92 

Roofer at Work ..... 93 


14 




ILLUSTRATIONS 


15 


FACING 

The Maru where Food is Prepared 
The Builder . 

Toques in the Courtyard 
A Jiggy Carrier ..... 

At the Well ...... 

Typical Market Scene at Kim-Chee Time 
Devil Post and Pile of Stones Opposite . 
Drying Ginseng ..... 

Sorting for Market .... 

Ferrying ...... 

Plowing ...... 

Planting Rice ..... 

Grinding the Village Grain 
Intricately Carved White Marble Pagoda 
A Common Sight in Seoul 
Musical Instruments .... 

His First Birthday .... 

Bride’s Palanquin, Covered with Tiger’s 
Skin 


PAGE 

102 

103 

112 

113 

116 

117 

126 

127 

127 

132 

133 
133 

140 

141 

152 

153 
178 


179 




















When I Was a Boy 
in Korea 


CHAPTER I 

KOREAN CUSTOMS 

One of my earliest childhood memories 
is that of begging more boiled chestnuts 
from my father, who happened to be feed¬ 
ing me that delicious baby food for 
Korean children. 

My father, as did many other Koreans 
who were able, took his family to the 
mountains, in order to be out of the beaten 
path and escape the soldiers during the 
Chino-Japanese War of 1894. There were 
Mother, my elder sister, and I. The place 
to which Father took us was away up in 
the mountains of North Fyeng, a prov¬ 
ince noted for its cold winters and its large 

17 


18 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

chestnuts. He chose such a place because 
there he was least apt to be troubled by 
the plundering soldiery. Wars, even in 
those days, were serious affairs, accom¬ 
panied by pilfering and hardships for any 
one who happened to be in the path of the 
armies of either side. Korean mountains 
were safe, and a natural refuge because of 
the difficulty of traveling over them with 
a large body of men. 

I have mentioned the large chestnuts, 
for in my recollection they furnish the 
Korean children at once with delightful 
food and a sort of confection in a country 
where candy is very scarce. In the cities 
and hamlets one hears during the day and 
far into the night the melodious cry of 
chestnut-venders singing out their wares. 
These chestnut-merchants of the streets 
are usually boys, though not always, who 
are getting their first training as business 
men. They build a small charcoal fire 
generally in a Korean “ wharoo,” a round 
vessel made of brass or cast iron with legs 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


19 


standing about a foot high. They first 
cut several crosses through the shells of 
the chestnuts and then put them in a wire 
cage somewhat similar to a corn-popper 
and hold it over the charcoal fire, all the 
while shaking the container to turn the 
nuts over. While this operation is being 
performed, the vender cries out, “ Goon- 
Balm-ee-oh! Goon-Balm-ee-oh! Sul-sul- 
Gul-en Goon-Balm-ee-oh! ” meaning: 
“ Bnasted chestnuts, roasted chestnuts, 
piping-hot roasted chestnuts!” 

All this is said in a singsong way, and 
the boy has such a good time in saying it 
over and over again that it is not unpleas¬ 
ant to hear. 

Customers often ask to buy the very 
hot nuts in the roasting-cage, in which 
case he stops his singing long enough to 
make the sale. At other times customers 
are a little slow, and then the boy peels 
the shells from the roasted chestnuts and 
arranges the meats in neat piles, generally 
about fifteen to twenty in a pile which 


20 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

sells for a copper, equal roughly to a half- 
cent. Then he thriftily uses the shells to 
make fire to roast more chestnuts, and so 
it goes. 

Among other confections, Korean chil¬ 
dren have a sort of taffy that they are 
very fond of, and which furnishes them as 
well as the grown-ups with an article to 
satisfy their desire for sweet things. This 
taffy is usually made from the juice of 
sorghum cane which is boiled down to a 
thick consistency, but it can also be made 
from the juice of barley malt. When stiff 
enough to be handled, it is put on a handy 
peg on the wall and pulled until the color 
changes from dark brown to light creamy 
color. Quite often it is eaten without pull¬ 
ing, and sometimes more elaborate candies 
are made by adding roasted soy beans or 
roasted sesame seeds to the unpulled taffy. 
The finished candy is twisted into handy 
sticks, somewhat the size of the American 
candy sticks, and venders carry them 
about the streets crying out, “Yut-Sa- 



Candy Venders. 




Korea in Her Serenity, 








KOREAN CUSTOMS 21 

see-oh,” which means “Buy your yut 
here.” 

I have said that the venders go about 
the streets. That is one of the first 
things one notices in Korea. Stores are 
only for the larger cities, and most of the 
business in smaller places is done in the 
highways. The Korean people from time 
immemorial have carried on most of their 
business by conducting, every five days, 
a fair in each village, to which every neigh¬ 
boring farmer, tradesman, and craftsman 
carries his wares to sell or barter for other 
things he or his family requires. The 
needs of the people being simple, this cus¬ 
tom is still followed. At such fairs, a 
man could buy a cow, which is the beast 
of burden of Korea, or he could buy a 
stick of yut for a cash. 

A cash is roughly worth one-twen¬ 
tieth of a cent and is a round coin of 
cast brass with a square hole in the cen¬ 
ter, through which a string or thong may 
be run, and Chinese characters stamped 


22 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


around the edges. Most of you have seen 
the Chinese cash that decorate souvenirs, 
purse-strings, etc. The hole in the center 
comes in very handy, for in business trans¬ 
actions it takes many cash to make a deal, 
as in buying a bolt of silk or a sack of rice 
or a donkey. Often in my boyhood I have 
seen a man carrying on his back a full load 
of cash pieces, which would hardly amount 
to five dollars of American money. Of 
course, gradually such conditions have 
changed so that now we have not only sil¬ 
ver and nickel money, but also paper 
money to represent gold deposited with 
the government treasury; and we also use 
the decimal system of counting the units. 

Cakes, cookies, candies, etc., are con¬ 
sidered as confections primarily for chil¬ 
dren, in Korea, and to obtain them in a 
country where money is not so plentiful, 
barter is often entered into. Old copper, 
brass, and iron are a familiar sight in most 
city junk-shops, where not only mothers’ 
worn-out teakettles go, but where every- 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


23 


thing from rusty railroad spikes to brass 
hinges is taken in exchange for a piece of 
candy or a handful of nuts. It happened 
more than once, in our own family, that 
my mother would miss her favorite pair of 
scissors or one of her iron kettles, which 
in my opinion had no better use, and then 
through questioning of the candy-vender 
she would discover its whereabouts. Very 
often these little candy-peddlers are boys 
of about ten years of age who sing their 
wares in the most musical manner, click¬ 
ing their huge scissors as they go along 
the streets. 

According to the old custom and belief 
in Korea, there were only two callings for 
which a boy could prepare himself. He 
might aspire to and train for government 
service, which included any position from 
that of the governor of a large province 
to that of an insignificant page at a county 
court; or he might aim to be a great 
scholar who would be revered all the days 
of his life for his great wisdom and his 


24 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

ability to write poetry at will and on the 
least provocation. All other lines of hu¬ 
man activity, such as farming, business, 
and handicrafts, according to their idea, 
needed no preparation and were to be re¬ 
sorted to only under misfortune. 

Being the eldest son in an average Ko¬ 
rean home, where much importance was at¬ 
tached to the perpetuation of the family 
name, my future was naturally slated to 
be that of a scholar. Much to my satisfac¬ 
tion, my father, being forced by circum¬ 
stances at an early age, was a merchant 
trading with buyers from China. He had 
always felt that he could have reached his 
zenith in the literary line, and so was de¬ 
termined that the first son should have all 
the advantages that he was denied—a feel¬ 
ing which most parents the world over 
no doubt harbor in their hearts. My in¬ 
terest in his mercantile life was discour¬ 
aged, and, from earliest childhood, I was 
surrounded with classical books and tutors 
and carefully protected from the neces- 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


25 


sity of doing any manual work. Like 
most boys, I did not object to being al¬ 
lowed to escape doing such work, but in 
payment for that freedom I was forbid¬ 
den to do many things which a nor¬ 
mal child delights in, such as sliding on 
the ice with straw shoes, gathering fire¬ 
wood in the mountains with my chums, or 
riding the donkey bareback. My more 
fortunate, or as they thought themselves, 
my less fortunate friends enjoyed these 
mild adventures in connection with their 
village life. On one occasion I remember 
very distinctly having gone with the out¬ 
side man to the pasture to tie the family 
bull. The pasture was on a hill beyond the 
house and, being out of sight of the fam¬ 
ily, I asked the man if I might ride the 
bull while it was grazing. Wanting to 
please me and not thinking of the fresh 
white pantaloons that I had just put on, 
he lifted me up on the bare back of the 
work animal where I passed a perfect half- 
hour. Before we came in sight of our 


26 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


house, I dismounted and walked leisurely 
into the house as befitted a boy preparing 
to be a scholar. I had no more than got¬ 
ten inside of the door when my mother 
wanted to know where I had been and 
what I had done to my pantaloons. I 
looked back cautiously before answering, 
and was mortified to find the whole seat 
black with dirt from the bull’s back. Dur¬ 
ing the secret session which followed with 
my father, he reminded me that riding 
bulls was not the proper thing for even so 
young a scholar to do. 

In spite of the many restrictions put 
upon children’s play, on account of the un¬ 
reasonable belief as to what a proper 
training is, we had many good times, and 
I believe that Korean children after their 
own fashion receive as much attention 
from their parents as do any other chil¬ 
dren. For instance, regardless of how 
poor any family might be, it is almost a 
universal custom to feature each holiday 
by fitting out every child with new clothes. 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


27 


Even to the present day there are not 
many stores in Korea where ready-made 
clothing for any member of the family can 
be purchased. 

It took the family more than a day to 
rip apart, wash, iron, and sew together 
again those fresh white pantaloons that 
were spoiled in a half-hour. Had they 
been winter pantaloons, it would have re¬ 
quired an even longer time, for they would 
have been of double thickness, with a heavy 
layer of cotton padding for warmth. 

I refer to trousers as pantaloons be¬ 
cause that is about the only word which 
describes them. In appearance they are 
almost like the ones the Hollanders wear. 
Both men and boys wear the same style. 
The legs are very wide and are tied at the 
bottom with colored ribbons, and also at 
the waist with a colorful fancy flat cord 
with tassels at either end. Over these, we 
wear a coat cut on box lines reaching to 
the hips. The collar of the coat is V- 
shaped at the front, and the lapels are 


28 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

fastened across the front with ties of the 
same material. 

Generally, unless boys are in mourning, 
their clothes are colored, but the universal 
color for men is white. One can always 
tell when a boy has lost a near relative by 
the white that he wears. The j)eriod of 
mourning for each relative depends upon 
the closeness of the kin. For parents it 
extends over a period of three years. 

Among the articles of apparel, what 
now seem to me among the most peculiar 
and yet most practical in a country where 
leather is scarce are the wooden shoes used 
in wet weather. Unlike the Dutch chil¬ 
dren, we do not wear the wooden shoes at 
all times. When it rains, however, the 
streets are full of them, and some of them 
are really masterpieces of carving. These 
shoes are shaped like boats, and each has 
two high cleats on the bottom so that the 
body of the shoe does not touch the mud 
of the street. Very often I have taken 
these shoes off at a pond and, making 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


29 


masts of a piece of bamboo, have put sails 
on them and played sailboat. Not infre¬ 
quently I have seen them carried away 
into deep waters by the wind, and have 
had to go barefooted in the end. 

On a sunny day, and the days of sun¬ 
shine are many in Korea, the streets of a 
Korean city are a spectacle to behold, not 
so much because of the buildings or the 
street itself, but on account of the dress 
of the people. In summer particularly, 
all the men, women, and children wear 
garments made of mo-see, commonly 
called China grass-linen. Those of you 
who have seen table-cloths or clothing 
made of this material can readily appreci¬ 
ate how cool and clean a street must look 
hilled with people clothed entirely in this 
material, of a shiny whiteness, and with a 
crispness and a freshness that no other 
cloth possesses in such measure. To top 
their costume, and accentuate the white¬ 
ness, the men wear the typical horsehair 
hats tied on the tops of their heads with 


30 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


crisp black ribbons or with strings of 
amber beads underneath the chin and 
hanging down the front somewhat similar 
to a necktie. 

Even in the summer, during the hottest 
and most humid weather, a Korean gen¬ 
tleman must wear an outer garment when 
outside of his own home. These, however, 
are made of the sheerest mo-see and do 
not add much to the weight or discomfort 
of the owner. I say discomfort with 
qualifications, for being fully dressed in 
such a costume often prevents one from 
sitting down in public conveyances lest 
the crisp garments become creased and 
mussed. One often enters a crowded 
street-car to find almost all the passengers 
standing and clinging to straps, the seats 
being occupied only by workmen and 
bundles. 

While speaking of the Korean gentle¬ 
man’s summer outfit, it would not be 
proper to omit what I have often called 
the inner armor or dress shield. In order 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


31 


to protect his clothing from body moisture 
and to keep him cool, he wears next to his 
skin long wristlets and a slip-over similar 
in shape to the sleeveless sweater. This 
outfit is made of the finest split reed or 
bamboo, which is wrapped over a reed 
skeleton or framework corresponding to 
the pattern of the outer garment. This 
“ armor ” is often a masterpiece of handi¬ 
craft, being exquisite in design and in 
weaving. 

Women of Korea also wear white, and 
their dress includes pantaloons which look 
more like a divided skirt with the legs 
tapering towards the bottom. Over these 
they invariably wear full apron skirts, 
whether in the house or on the street. The 
upper garment is a short jacket with a 
V neck, and is tied on one side over the 
heart with wide ties of material similar to 
that used by the men. The collars of such 
jackets are generally of different material 
and, like the little cuffs, are often of col¬ 
ored silk or satin. 


32 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

A woman’s hair is dressed in a low 
fancy knot on the back of her neck. 
Through this knot goes a large pin made 
of precious metal or jade. Needless to 
say, her coiffure is immaculate. This is 
partly due to the style of dressing. The 
hair is combed smoothly and flat over her 
head to form the knot on the back and 
every hair is in its place or else she calls 
on the hair oil for help in this respect. 
The manner of dressing ladies’ hair is 
often different in the back provinces. 
One of the pleasing styles is to comb the 
hair straight to the back, there making two 
smooth braids which are wound about the 
crown in a coronation braid. Where this 
style of hair-dressing is in vogue, the ladies 
make a very pretty head-covering of sheer 
white material which they fold into a band 
about six inches wide, and which they tie 
over their forehead, bringing it to a very 
good-looking bow at the back. 

To me, it seems that the children wear 
everything. They have a distinct style of 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


33 


clothing which is nearly like that of the 
grown-ups in shape, but, dependent upon 
the parents’ whims, their garments may 
he as dignified and flowing as those of 
their elders or highly colorful and ex¬ 
tremely fancy. In summer, as in other 
countries, the boys’ apparel is very simple, 
consisting merely of trousers and the usual 
jacket; in the case of a girl, a skirt is 
added. In the winter, however, fond par¬ 
ents bestow on the children’s clothing 
pains and workmanship often beyond any 
reason. 

The boys, like their fathers, wear little 
vests that have four great pockets, the 
only pockets in their entire costume. As a 
consequence, they carry a variety of treas¬ 
ures in these. Of course, in the hoys’ 
pockets one might find nearly anything 
imaginable from broken glass to printing 
sets, and that is almost so with the men. 
In fact, vests are made of sheer material 
for summer wear, not because they want 
to wear vests but to have the use of the 


34 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


pockets. I have seen old men’s pockets 
bulging with all sorts of things. From 
each pocket come one or several strings 
that are fastened to the buttonholes. The 
end of a string might be tied to anything 
from a tobacco-pouch to a purse or a 
man’s seal. A very old man carries many 
pouches strung along his belt: one for his 
match-box, one for his spectacles, one for 
his tobacco-pouch, one for his money, and 
one for his jewelry, etc., etc. 

Little boys’ pantaloons are tied at their 
ankles, like their fathers’. The ties serve 
two purposes, that of fixing the garment, 
and of holding up the short po-sons or 
foot-coverings which are of the same ma¬ 
terial and style for men and women as 
well as children. These are made of some 
white material like heavy sheeting, cut to 
fit the foot carefully. They are of two 
thicknesses in the summer, but in the win¬ 
ter a layer of cotton batting is inserted 
between the two thicknesses. As the 
Koreans do not wear their shoes in their 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


35 


houses, these po-sons serve as a kind of 
cushion in the house when walking around; 
outdoors, they keep the feet protected 
from the shoes which are not so well 
shaped to the foot. 

Of shoes, there are many varieties. 
They vary from the cheapest straw san¬ 
dal-shoes or somewhat better sandal-shoes 
made of finer vegetable fibre, up to leather 
low shoes. Rubbers and wooden shoes 
are available for wet weather. These do 
not have buckles, ties, or buttons. They 
all slip easily over the toes and heel of the 
wearer, as do the Chinese or the Turkish 
shoes. In a country where one has to take 
off one’s shoes before entering the house, 
slipping them off without untying or 
bending over is very convenient, not to say 
necessary. Children’s shoes are minia¬ 
tures of their parents’. While the men’s 
and boys’ shoes are plain, without frills, 
although they may be made of the finest 
soft white kid leather, the women’s are 
more decorative in material and design. 


36 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

Korean people have very small feet, 
especially the women. This is not the re¬ 
sult of binding, but perhaps due to the 
constant wearing of tight-fitting po-sons, 
which preserve the shape of their feet. 
They are great walkers and have very lit¬ 
tle foot trouble. 

In the olden days almost all communi¬ 
cations were carried by runners on foot 
over the mountain passes that are every¬ 
where in Korea, and where there are only 
difficult paths, if any. These professional 
couriers often covered as much as seventy 
to seventy-five English miles from sun¬ 
rise to sundown. On regular routes, stop- 
ping-places were established where they 
could secure their food, wash their tired 
feet, and perhaps enjoy a pipeful of to¬ 
bacco before the fires. In winter these 
fires were on the hearth in the room, but 
in summer they were only sage-leaf 
smudges to keep away the pestering mos¬ 
quitoes or other insects. 

The designated stopping-places were 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


37 


generally; small inns, of which there are 
many alongside the traveled roads in 
Korea, due to the many foot travelers. 
The hospitality of these places is nothing 
less than that of the wayside inns of Eng¬ 
land, famed in song and story. People in 
these small taverns or the villages en route 
would gather around the traveler to hear 
all about what was happening in other 
parts of their land, learning of events of 
the past month or year. 

Newspapers and fast means of travel 
and communication have not yet pene¬ 
trated all parts of the land, and the simple- 
hearted people look forward to the com¬ 
ing of a traveler, especially a learned one 
who can, at his will, keep the village awake 
to the small hours of the morning with 
his wonderful stories of adventure and 
what he has seen. Often, as a boy, I have 
been kept awake with the permission of 
my father, listening to the entrancing tales 
of far-away lands and peoples from a 
traveler. Later, I have come to suspect 


38 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


that the traveler very often stretched his 
imagination, or told as his own experiences 
the colorful and dramatic tales he had 
derived from several different sources. 
Whatever the truth of these chronicles, 
they were generally harmless but enter¬ 
taining, and furnished these simple rural 
people with social companionship that 
made up the greater pleasures of their 
lives. 

To revert to the boy’s outfit, to be fully 
dressed in the presence of elders or on the 
street means to wear at all seasons a long 
garment that comes to within three or four 
inches of the ground. This is called a 
do-roo-magie, about the nearest thing to 
a duster coat, but very correct as to cut 
and style. The hair is done up in a single 
braid down the back and tied with a flow¬ 
ing gay silk tie not unlike a four-in-hand 
necktie. With engagement or marriage 
the hair is put up on the head in a charac¬ 
teristic topknot. 

I remember very clearly the occasion 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


39 


when one of my older boy friends became 
engaged. His parents were members of 
the old school, so his hair was wound in a 
tight knot on top of his head, in fact so 
tight that his facial expression took on 
that of a person much frightened, but try¬ 
ing to look happy. The shorter hairs were 
held up by a very finely woven horsehair 
band which was bound tightly about his 
forehead and tied at the nape of the neck. 
Stuck downward on the topknot was a 
gorgeous red coral pin for ornament, 
about the size of the little finger. Perched 
on top of his head, or rather around his 
topknot, was a copy of the dignified head- 
gear of his honorable father, except that 
the engagement hat was made of fine 
handpicked straw; the brim was curved up 
somewhat saucily and the high crown of 
the hat tapered upwards more pro¬ 
nouncedly, whereas the father’s hat-brim 
was almost flat and the crown was tapered 
only a little, in comparison. This hat is 
worn by the engaged boy only until he is 


40 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

married. My friend henceforth put on 
airs and lorded it over us smaller lads, as 
the putting on of a hat of any description 
was a sign that he was to be recognized as 
a full-grown man—or was to become one 
soon. 

The custom of the country dictates that 
no man, no matter how old he may be, can 
assume the attitude of full manhood until 
he is married, and I have often seen men 
as old as fifty years who still wore their 
hair in a long braid down the back and 
were addressed in what is known as “ af¬ 
fectionate low talk.” From the day that 
our boy friend put on his funny little hat, 
he expected us to speak in respectful tones 
to him and address him in “ high talk,” 
while, of course, he continued to talk to 
us in “ affectionate low talk,” just as we 
had always been doing to each other in our 
play. 

It might be well to explain that the so- 
called high and low talk exist in both 
Japan and Korea, but not so much in 


KOREAN CUSTOMS 


41 


China. The “ high talk ” is used in speak¬ 
ing to elders or to equals and among the 
grown-ups in conversing with each other, 
while the “ low talk ” is spoken by the 
higher or elder persons to children and to 
servants, and among younger people. 
“ Low talk ” has, therefore, been aptly 
called “ affectionate,” since generally it is 
used by children to denote close friendship 
and by endearing parents to their chil¬ 
dren, or to children of others to whom they 
want to show their affection. Of course, 
this is not true in case of the address to 
servants, but, even in the case of servants, 
the talk is generally in an affectionate tone 
such as a benefactor would use towards his 
protege. 

It is a peculiar thing that the servant 
class, and, in fact, the whole population, 
speak in no mistaken terms when they 
address persons of different importance. 
That is, the children and the servant class 
seem instinctively to know when to use the 
“ low talk ” or the respectful tone. This 


42 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

has contributed much to the beauty of the 
language, at least to the spoken language. 
From childhood Koreans are taught the 
best language to use to the elders, and 
when they grow up they already have what 
is commonly known as best grammar and 
choice of words at their command. When 
any mistake in the proper use of the lan¬ 
guage is made, every important personage 
seems to take it upon himself to reproach 
the culprit; especially is this true in the 
schools. 


CHAPTER II 


SCHOOLS 

In the cities there are large schools, but 
in the country districts the children are 
dependent for learning solely upon some 
benevolent scholar who establishes a school 
in his sa-ra-ang, which is the gentlemen’s 
reception-room. This room is just as 
necessary in a Korean home as the kitchen. 
No matter how poor the house-owner may 
he, a sa-ra-ang must be provided for his 
callers, since no men may enter a room oc¬ 
cupied by the women of the family. 

The tuition for attending such a school 
is generally what the families of the pupils 
can give, the man teaching for the love 
of study as well as for the leisurely, schol¬ 
arly life that he would lead. Much of his 
remuneration comes at holiday times when 
gifts from the families of the students 

43 


44 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


provide many of the necessities of life such 
as rice and fish, etc., and also luxuries such 
as silks for pantaloons, beverages of high 
value, fruits, and other delicacies in the 
food line. 

Our family lived both in the city and in 
small villages, and the school life in the 
village is one of the most pleasant mem¬ 
ories that I carry to this day. The school 
that I attended in the village district was 
located about a mile from our home, and, 
every morning, with our lunch-kits thrown 
over our backs, we would set out for the 
school which was conducted by an elderly 
scholar in his sa-ra-ang. 

The lunch consisted of a good-sized 
Korean brass-bowl, half-filled with flaky, 
steaming rice. Set into the upper half of 
this bowl were two or three smaller brass 
dishes generally holding bits of cooked 
fish, bean curd, Korean kim-chee, etc. 
The whole set had a tight-fitting brass 
cover and was encased in a regulation net 
woven of twine and drawn together at the 


SCHOOLS 


45 


top with strong draw-strings that were 
long so that the bag might be carried by 
the strings. This lunch kit is almost 
standardized by common use, and every 
boy has one. Of course, there might be 
one or two frail boys from a rich family 
who would have a fancier outfit, but most 
of us were happy to shoulder whatever 
was provided for us, and proceeded to 
have all the fun that we could on the way 
to school. 

Time was not much of a factor with us 
in those days, nor apparently with the 
teacher for we would arrive at his sa-ra- 
ang sometimes during the morning and 
sometimes in the afternoon. Our part of 
the country was noted for its delicious 
fruits and nuts, which apparently grew 
without cultivation by any one. Each 
day on our way to school we would 
pick out trees and mark out some par¬ 
ticular fruit as our own. When the bright 
sunshine had ripened the juicy apricot or 
crisp pear, our respective fruits were 


46 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


plucked, and “ a good time was had by 
all.” Arriving at the school at last, we 
would make a deep obeisance to the 
teacher and ask in our most respectful and 
high language whether he had rested well 
during the past night. The teacher usually 
pretended to be much absorbed in his 
classical books, hut would, after the lapse 
of a few seconds, condescend to look up 
and calling our individual names would 
say in affectionate low talk, “ Oh, have 
you come?” Then he would earnestly 
ask with much concern after the health of 
our respective parents. This procedure, 
with every word the same, would be in 
order each day, just as ceremoniously as a 
court function. On leaving the school in 
the evening, we would again arise and 
make a deep how to the teacher and beg 
the great scholar to rest well that night. 
ITe would just as ceremoniously say 
“ Uh — —which meant that he con¬ 
sented to rest well, and admonished us to 
go directly and quietly to our homes, 



SCHOOLS 


47 


and to tell our parents that he inquired 
whether they were well and happy. 

Once in school, our work began. Every 
one of us smaller boys had the same book 
of one thousand Chinese characters. The 
old teacher sat alone at the head of the 
room. Directly in front of him and fac¬ 
ing him sat the smaller boys, about four 
or five in a row; then boys a little larger, 
and in the back rows sat the largest boys. 
Every one sat on the floor, as is the Korean 
custom. Of course, there were no girls 
in the school. There were separate schools 
for the few that were sent to school, but 
more often girls of the better families were 
tutored privately in the secret recesses of 
their own homes. 

The old teacher had a small baton, or 
more often a short bamboo rod, with which 
he would tap the floor; then commenced 
the musical singsong of the boys, all read¬ 
ing the characters aloud, each apparently 
trying to outdo the others in the loudness 
of his voice. As the boys read, or rather 


48 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


sang the characters, their bodies swung 
back and forth like pendulums. This 
singing often lasted for an hour without 
stopping and then a short recess would be 
called so that the boys could go out of 
the rooms for a much-needed drink of 
water, or to play around the teacher’s 
home and back yard. Often the teacher 
was a tolerant old man, who would be very 
lenient with the students and let them go 
chestnutting, or swimming as the season 
permitted. There were no regular holi¬ 
days except those declared by the teacher, 
and the one long holiday that comes at 
New Year’s time when all the business of 
the land closes down for fifteen days. 

Occasionally, there are schools founded 
by old scholars that care for those children 
whose parents or relatives cannot afford to 
pay the regular tuition. Such schools are 
generally sustained by the generosity of 
the neighborhood. Frequently the pupils 
live several miles from the teacher’s place, 
which makes it hard for them to go home 



The Teacher and His Country School. 














Swing Day, 




SCHOOLS 


49 


daily or even weekly. Such children are 
taken care of by the kind-hearted village 
folk, without any charge for the lodging. 
Most of these boys being from the farms, 
each month they bring with them grains 
or other articles of food such as seaweeds, 
and fresh or dried vegetables, but very 
seldom meat of any kind, except fish. 
These gifts of food the boys take to the 
teacher as a token of appreciation and to 
the village folk with whom they stay as 
part compensation for board and room. 
In the case of the teacher, such gifts 
amount to a considerable sum when all 
of them are put together, and it is not a 
bad lot sometimes to be the scholar and be 
provided with at least his food, the sur¬ 
plus of which he can sell readily. The 
question of food is the main thing; the 
shelter will take care of itself. 

Each boy attending a distant school 
carries his own bedding, and at whichever 
house he is to make his home, whether it 
be that of a friend or just a family to 


50 WEEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

whom he carries a letter of introduction, 
he is welcomed. Such is the hospitality 
of the country. If he brings with him as 
much as his food, there is no thought of 
charging him for the rent of the room in 
which he stays. Any excess of grain or 
food can easily be exchanged for the rough 
homespun cotton cloth out of which the 
family can readily fashion a new garment 
for him. So the bartering goes, until the 
simple wants of the student, the teacher, 
and the country folk are satisfied to a 
certain extent. 


CHAPTER III 


SERICULTURE 

At the age of seven, being the eldest son 
of the family, I was considered old enough 
to attend the sericulture school some fifty 
li (seventeen miles) away from our home, 
and since the trip had to be made entirely 
on foot it was planned that I should re¬ 
turn home only once in two months. Be¬ 
ing so young, I do not remember very 
much of what they taught, though I recall 
that we did have instruction both morn¬ 
ing and evening. I remember nothing but 
scurrying about the farms near by during 
the day, gathering mulberry leaves for the 
silkworms to feed upon, and crying for 

my own home by night. Were it now, I 

% 

could have ridden home daily or, at least, 
once a week, but in those days when a lad 
had to go afoot, fifty li was considerable 
distance for a boy to travel home. 

51 


52 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

All the older boys in the school made 
great fun of me. They would say, “ Does 
not your father already own a silk factory 
where you could at once apply all the 
knowledge that you could gain from 
study? Why do you waste all the time 
in crying for home? ” The teachers were 
more sympathetic, however, for at the end 
of the first term I was told that permis¬ 
sion had been received for me to return 
home to stay. After returning home, the 
task of picking mulberry leaves became 
more enjoyable, since I had all my village 
friends to call on and, in true Tom Saw¬ 
yer style, most of the leaves in my basket 
were picked by my friends. 

Sericulture is a very good household 
industry. Each family can devote as 
much time to it as they may feel inclined, 
and the mulberry-trees, whose leaves are 
used as the only food for the silkworms, 
can be raised on fence-rows or in less fer¬ 
tile soil. Silkworms are hatched from 
small eggs that are laid by the silkworm 


SERICULTURE 53 

moth. The moths of the cultured varieties 
lay the eggs on sheets of paper about the 
size of a business letterhead, and the moth, 
during its egg-laying minutes, is guided 
around the paper in such a way that 
the space is generally uniformly filled. 
Then there are the wild silkworm moths 
that fly about the country, laying their 
eggs on dead leaves or on tree trunks 
where they will hatch in due time and be¬ 
come worms, living off whatever mulberry 
leaves they can find. Silk cloths made 
from these two kinds of cocoons are sold 
in the same shops, leading the merchants 
to put up such signs as “ Best wild silk 
shirts,” etc. Not that the shirt is very wild, 
or that the behavior of the wild silk shirt 
is best, but literal translation would have 
it that way. 

When the eggs are hatched at the 
proper temperature, the cultured worms 
are very small and can hardly be seen 
singly, but are massed and swept together, 
a single feather being used as a broom to 


54 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

sweep them about the tray in which they 
are kept. At first, only crushed mulberry 
leaves are fed to them and one can hardly 
notice that any of the food is consumed; 
but, in the course of two days, they be¬ 
come distinct worms and, in five days, 
they are about the size of a half-inch pen¬ 
cil lead. From that time on they grow 
very fast, some varieties maturing, that is, 
becoming ready to spin their cocoons, in 
four weeks or even less. In the last stages 
of growth, when the worms are large 
enough so that mulberry leaves need no 
longer be fed to them crushed, finely cut, 
or chopped, a single worm will eat as 
many as a dozen large leaves as big as a 
boy’s hand in an hour. Then it is that all 
hands must pick mulberry leaves! 

When the worms are “ ripe ”—the term 
used in Korea indicating full growth— 
they will stop eating and one must watch 
very carefully to see the first sign from 
any one of the worms that they are be¬ 
ginning to spin their cocoons. When this 


SERICULTURE 


55 


is noticed, the whole tray of worms, some¬ 
times containing as many as five thousand, 
is taken to the roosting room. This room 
has large trays from which is extended a 
lattice work of pine boughs. The worms 
climb up on these branches and, attaching 
one end of the silk fibre to the pine bough, 
they form a somewhat peanut-shaped shell 
and spin the raw silk cocoon, completely 
enclosing themselves in a few minutes. 
The cocoons are then gathered and boiled, 
to kill the life inside and also to make it 
possible to unwind what the worm has 
wound. When eggs are wanted, the 
cocoons are not boiled, but are allowed to 
stay in a fairly warm room till the larvae 
develop into butterflies or moths, bore 
holes through the cocoons, and emerge. 
From butterfly to egg, egg to worm, 
worm to cocoon, cocoon to moth again— 
so endlessly runs the cycle. Some varie¬ 
ties hatch only once a year; others hatch 
and go through the cycle as many as five 
or six times in as many months. The 


56 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


weaving of silks, the reeling of the thread, 
the grading, and the many other fine de¬ 
tails of silk-making are another story, but 
to most Qriental children on the farm this 
is a very familiar scene. 


CHAPTER IV 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 

To a casual visitor, the Korean children 
seem to lack the good times that other 
children enjoy. They have very few toys, 
and yet they do play with gusto and en¬ 
joy themselves very thoroughly with what 
simple things they have. They generally 
play, in little groups, all sorts of outdoor 
games that are as old as the hills and yet 
ever interesting to the little fellows. I 
really believe that the game of hide-and- 
seek was originally an Oriental game, 
though I would not trespass on any claims 
that the Chinese boys might have on any¬ 
thing that is old and universal. 

Groups of boys are found playing cash¬ 
throwing. This is much like a game of 
marbles, except that the old-time brass 
cash-pieces are used. Two parallel lines 

57 


58 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

are drawn about ten feet apart. With the 
toes behind one line, each boy throws his 
cash-piece to the other line and the one 
that is the closest has the first shot; then 
the next closest, etc. The winner of the 
first shot takes all the cash-pieces and, 
standing with toes on one line, throws 
them all in a bunch over the other line. 
Those pieces falling short of the line do 
not count. After the cash-pieces are 
thrown over the line, he takes a small disc 
of iron or, more often, a neat disc of stone 
and pitches it with the aim of hitting as 
many of the cash-pieces as possible, for 
he gets all that he hits. Then the second 
shooter takes the remaining cash-pieces 
and throws them over the line, trying to 
hit as many as possible and keeping out 
for himself all that he has managed to hit. 
So the game progresses until all the cash- 
pieces have been hit and taken out of the 
game; then everything starts over again. 

Girls are not allowed to play with boys, 
but they, too, have their games amongst 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


59 


themselves. It is very common to see as 
many as half of a group of girls with 
babies tied to their backs while playing 
hop-scotch as agilely as though there were 
no extra load. 

And then come the national holidays. 
What an infinite wealth of joys is com¬ 
pressed into these glorious days, which 
each child knows as soon as he can be 
conscious of anything! Does not a holi¬ 
day mean an entirely new equipment of 
clothes from head to foot? And this does 
not mean just another suit, but it includes 
outfits of different materials for each holi¬ 
day and season. Even the very poorest 
family must plan for these few occasions, 
and no Korean child is to be disappointed, 
if effort and sacrifice can prevent; for 
these occurrences have come to mean as 
much to young Koreans as Christmas to 
the children of the Occident. 

For each of these holidays there are 
particular foods which are not only proper, 
but which seem to meet with the universal 


60 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

approval of Korean people. On May 
thirtieth (Old Calendar), for instance, one 
eats “jegimme” to his utmost capacity, 
not even Mother admonishing one about 
the quantity one eats on that day. This 
“ jegimme ” is a flat griddle-cake made of 
flour milled in a stone mortar in each home 
from small green peas. A batter is made; 
a bit of meat is minced with vegetables 
and mixed with the batter; then the lus¬ 
cious cakes are baked in a shallow pan 
over red-hot charcoals. The smell of these 
baking cakes makes one think of the brisk 
October days when chestnuts are popping 
merrily over the same kind of fire. 

On this May holiday great swings are 
put uj) in each village, and all the inhabi¬ 
tants turn out and swing in pairs, gen¬ 
erally two boys or two girls, for to the 
pair that swings highest a prize is gen¬ 
erally given. This is the day also for 
wrestling matches. Sometimes the young 
huskies from a whole district gather to¬ 
gether to wrestle. The rule is that the 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


61 


person who downs all comers takes the 
prize. These wrestling matches are fa¬ 
mous and they are held with elaborate 
ceremonies, under generally clear blue 
skies on some hillside. There the people 
seat themselves in a natural amphitheatre 
and the combatants line themselves around 
the paced-off level spot. Often the Gov¬ 
ernor or the local elder is present, and 
always there is a prize of a calf or a large¬ 
sized bull for the winner. One can see 
how important the games are when one 
knows that the prize of a bull is very valu¬ 
able, as bulls do almost all the work about 
the farm in Korea. Every one is decked 
out in his most colorful garments. The 
girls, especially, take the day for freedom 
as, on this occasion, they may parade 
about the village in groups without draw¬ 
ing anything but admiration for their 
clothes and the fancy way their hair is 
combed. 

Then comes the fifteenth of August 
(Old Calendar). The light, cool, almost 


62 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


transparent clothes are ready to give way 
to others of warmer material. But the 
clothes are not the center of interest on 
this day. The real interest is the pilgrim¬ 
age to the graves of one’s ancestors. 

When one says Decoration Day, it 
immediately brings to mind hundreds of 
American flags and gay flowers covering 
the graves of valiant soldiers. Not so in 
Korea. There are no cemeteries, as such, 
here. It has been said that the Korean 
lives his ideal life after death. This is 
seemingly true, for upon death, regardless 
of whether a man’s heirs can afford it, the 
best is given. The coffin itself is a simple 
box of the barest pine; the great expense 
lies in the services and what the deceased 
ordered done by a geomancer. 

This geomancer is supposedly gifted 
with supernatural powers. Among these 
is the happy ability to select a site for the 
burial of the deceased which will insure 
the remains such peaceful rest that the liv¬ 
ing relatives may be assured of perpetual 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


63 


good fortune. Unfortunately for the liv¬ 
ing, the seer usually selects a site up on 
a mountain side, close by a sparkling 
stream, and overlooking a particularly 
tranquil and fertile valley. Even should 
the desired spot be a field under cultiva¬ 
tion, happily irrigated by the stream, the 
geomancer offers to purchase it of the 
owner. Not infrequently the field is the 
owner’s sole means of livelihood and the 
offer is refused. In this case a midnight 
burial takes place; the owner awakens the 
next morning to find a new mound in the 
center of his field, but, on account of 
tradition and his own personal reverence 
for the departed, he has no choice save to 
leave it unmolested. If he is again ap¬ 
proached with money, he accepts, but un¬ 
der no circumstance can he demand any¬ 
thing, having once rejected an offer. 

You noticed I said “ mound.” The 
grave is dug, but is not only filled to the 
level of the ground but covered with a 
mound of earth from five to hundreds of 


G4 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


feet in height. The height depends upon 
the wealth of the deceased. The entire 
mound and ground for some feet about 
are sodded. Before the grave is placed a 
rectangular granite tablet, on either side 
of which stone images are stationed to 
guard the sacred spot. 

I remember very vividly a midnight 
funeral and burial on one of our own 
fields. My father and I were returning 
from a call on a sick uncle. As we swung 
over the top of the low mountain the weird 
chant of the funeral chorus reached my 
ears. In the inky darkness ten pairs of 
lanterns could soon be counted coming 
over the opposite hill. These lantern- 
bearers are professional mourners who 
keep up a weird chant resembling a wail 
throughout the journey to the final rest¬ 
ing-place. We were soon upon the pro¬ 
cession and I could see the usual money- 
dispenser throwing to the right and left 
small round bits of paper pierced through 
the center—fashioned after the money of 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


65 


generations ago. The purpose of broad¬ 
casting this money was to divert the at¬ 
tention of any evil spirit intent upon the 
remains. In place of the large ten-foot 
square platform carried by from ten to 
fifty men, there was only a small palan¬ 
quin borne by four men. This indicated 
at once that this was no recent death, but 
a re-burial of some remains. These re¬ 
burials are not uncommon. A. few mis¬ 
fortunes in a family will readily convince 
the living members that these are mes¬ 
sages from the dead who cannot rest in 
their present graves. Following the palan¬ 
quin was a man who struck a bell inter¬ 
mittently, after which he sang a verse of 
the dirge, the chorus of which was re¬ 
peated by the mourners ahead. 

The son of the deceased was next in 
line. The accustomed mitral-shaped cap 
was on his head. This was made of the 
coarsest hemp cloth, banded with hempen 
rope. His long outer coat was also of the 
same material, the shoes on his feet of the 


6G WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


cheapest rice-straw. I knew the next day 
would find a huge straw helmet on his 
head. The wealthiest of men wear this 
garb when in mourning, for it indicates 
deepest humility to the gods against whom 
he must have sinned, else death would not 
have visited his family. 

Ordinarily the friends of the deceased 
follow the chief mourners in jinrickshas 
or on donkeys. These friends as well as 
the mourners are always males, the women 
of the family being expected to receive 
condolences at home, where they, too, are 
garbed in the same rough material. 

When we were within a few feet of the 
procession, our unspoken fears were 
realized, for the lantern-bearers turned 
abruptly into our fields and proceeded to 
the most fertile ridge in that section. My 
father had often said that the site was 
ideal for a final resting-place. We stood 
filled with a curious emotion compounded 
of reverence and indignation, but there 
was nothing to be done. I learned the 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


67 


next day that an offer had been made two 
days previously, but that it had been re¬ 
jected. It seemed that the dead man’s 
son had recently suffered from three cases 
of illness in his family and, upon consult¬ 
ing a geomancer, had discovered that the 
remains of his father were not resting, 
menaced as they were by annual floods. 
Our particular site had been designated by 
the sage, and only when re-burial occurred 
would the son’s family regain health. 
When so much importance is attached to 
the spirit of the deceased, one can readily 
imagine the importance of the yearly pil¬ 
grimage. 

On the stone tablet erected before 
burial mounds, the annual offerings of 
food and fruit are laid. The descendants 
present kneel before the tablet, invoking 
blessings of the gods upon the spirit of 
the departed and asking the good-will and 
blessings of the departed upon the living 
members of the family. 

When the family is wealthy and hun- 


68 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

dreds of miles must be covered to 
reach the burial site, the trip becomes 
a holiday and a filial duty in one. 
Many servants must accompany the mas¬ 
ter, to carry the food upon their backs as 
well as to do such chores as are necessary 
on a long journey. The servants walk; 
the luxury of donkeys or horses, which 
are never larger than Shetland ponies, is 
permitted only to the master and his rela¬ 
tives. The journey is so planned that 
each night shall be spent in one of the 
many Buddhist temples tucked away in 
the mountains the country over. These 
temples are established by priests who 
live in them the year round, with the ex¬ 
ception of a certain month allotted each 
priest. During this month he must as¬ 
cend into the world of the lowly and beg 
for food, money, and such things as are 
necessary for the simple life led in the 
temples. Their chief food, like the rest 
of their people, is rice. They eat no meat 
whatever; their vegetables include many 



Sacrificial Tablet of Royal Tomb. Guarding Image and Sodded Mound in Background. 








Buddhist Temple 









HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 69 

mountain shrubs and herbs simply pre¬ 
pared. 

A Buddhist temple is a colorful thing. 
The low curving eaves are made of small 
panelings whose ends have been carefully 
faceted and painted a bright red and blue. 
At each corner of the temple hangs a small 
brass bell which tinkles with every breeze. 
There are always three or four separate 
buildings which contain the altars for 
worship. Each of these buildings consists 
of a single room. On the walls are his¬ 
toric Buddhist scenes, painted in the 
brightest of primary colors. Across one 
end of the room is the simple altar made 
up of three large gilded idols placed on 
a pedestal which has been made wide 
enough for the incense urns and candle¬ 
sticks necessary for each. On certain 
days there are dishes of food accompany¬ 
ing the usual incense. The dormitory and 
studies are embodied in another building. 
Simplicity is the key-note of their living, 
and as one enters the rooms there is noth- 


70 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOBE A 

ing to be seen but student candidates 
studying with an older priest. 

Pilgrims always stop at sundown, arriv¬ 
ing at temples in time for evening worship. 
Assigned priests preside at each altar. In¬ 
cense is first renewed and candles are lit. 
The priest then takes his place directly 
before the largest idol and begins his 
chant. He then kneels and touches his 
head to the floor several times, arises, and 
after a few minutes finishes the chant. 

Each temple compound has a huge brass 
bell which is tongueless, like all Korean 
bells. This bell is struck with a huge club 
at each service and, because of the quality 
of the brass of which it has been cast, the 
resonance throbs in the air throughout the 
chant. Every member on the compound 
worships at this time, stopping just where 
he is and bowing deepty in the direction 
of the nearest altar. Supper is served 
immediately after, and any travelers 
present are served the same simple meal 
that the priests enjoy. Their beds for the 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


71 


night are made on the floor and as each 
newcomer carries his own bedding, there 
is always room for another. 

After many stops and much jogging 
over steep mountain passes, the destina¬ 
tion is reached on the fifteenth of the 
month. Some journeys require as many 
as ten days but the plans must always be 
laid so carefully that, despite all obstacles, 
the grave shall be worshipped on the fif¬ 
teenth. The master and relatives clamber 
from the ponies wearily and seek the 
near-by pines for shade, while the servants 
clear a space for the feast. The food is 
carefully unloaded and soon small char¬ 
coal fires are glowing cheerfully. Such 
foods as need further preparation are put 
on to cook. When all is done, the tablet 
is spread, the worship is reverently car¬ 
ried out, and the party retires to the shade 
where the feast has been spread. 

The particular delicacy of the day is one 
similar to a steamed pudding which has, 
as its main ingredient, a flour made from 


72 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


a certain glutinous rice. The flour is 
placed in a muslin bag, then immersed in 
boiling water and gently kneaded. When 
ready, the bag is removed and placed upon 
a huge slab of granite where it is beaten 
for hours with large wooden mallets. 
The dough is now a homogeneous mass of 
a thick, tenacious consistency. This is 
then cut into pieces three inches square 
and one-half inch thick. A delicious fill¬ 
ing of dates, nuts, a bit of meat, and many 
spices is spread liberally over a piece of 
the dough and covered with another. 
These “ shang pyen ” are then ready for 
the steamer, where they remain until the 
dough becomes tender and the filling 
ready to drip from very goodness. On 
these pilgrimages the filling and dough 
are carried separately and steamed only 
at the journey’s end, over one of the many 
charcoal burners. 

On another fire the rice boils vigorously. 
With the rice done, one awaits a thin 
bamboo stick on which are strung three 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


73 


or four very thin slices of beef spread with 
salt, pepper, and a little sesame oil. These 
are broiled fresh over the fire and, even 
as they are passed to one, the meat juices 
trickle over the hot rice in a savory brown 
stream. The meat is usually purchased 
at the last village, where a large fish is 
also procured. This is broiled whole over 
the glowing coals. One enjoys this hot 
food, for in a few minutes is not the heat 
of the day to be swept away by the thor¬ 
oughly chilled melons that have been 
bobbing in the cool near-by spring since 
our arrival? 

When one says “ melon ” in the West, 
it means just that. When one says it in 
this country, however, it fills the mind’s 
eye with all the scenes that can be found 
everywhere at this season. The roads 
and streets are crowded with cart-loads, 
and full “jiggies” are carried on men’s 
backs. It would be impossible to estimate 
the hundreds of thousands of melons eaten 
per day at this time. One cannot step 


74 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

into a road or street but he sees some one 
squatted by the roadside quenching his 
thirst with a melon. There are small yel¬ 
low ones reminding one of the casaba 
melon of the States. Some prefer a long 
green one tasting like a juicy cucumber. 
Still another is a squatty octagonal melon 
with a skin that is a dull green and spotted 
with black blotches. These are all peeled 
from one end and eaten out of the hand, 
being too firm to be eaten with a spoon. 

The watermelons are sweet and juicy 
and have been carried the entire distance, 
strung on a pole. Each individual melon 
rests on its stem end in a round, thick 
hoop of rice straw. Tied to the hoop at 
intervals of three inches are suitable 
lengths of straw rope. These are brought 
up over the melon to meet in a single knot 
at the blossom end. A loop is provided 
through which a pole is thrust, and in this 
way melons are readily carried any dis¬ 
tance. These ingenious methods of carry¬ 
ing such articles are probably the outcome 


HOLIDAYS AND GAMES 


of the scarcity of pure drinking water. 

The exorbitant price of paper makes 
it possible for only a few prosperous shops 
to wrap their sales. Eggs are sold in 
strings of ten, wrapped in a thin layer of 
long, dried rice stalks. Fish is tied around 
the center with the same straw which cer¬ 
tainly insures one from the possibility of 
the drip of an entirely covered package. 

Peaches are at their best during the 
eighth month; and no load on such a trip 
is considered complete without the famous 
Korean pear. This fruit is shaped much 
like a large apple, and has a thin, smooth, 
tenacious, greenish-brown skin. Eating 
one of these pears is like drinking deeply 
of a refreshing beverage, there is so little 
pulp, and yet they are as crisp as celery. 

Sons always accompany their fathers on 
these pilgrimages, and when one sees which 
members partake of most of the food, one 
realizes at once that these delicacies are a 
parent’s subtle means of expressing his in¬ 
dulgence to his offspring. 


CHAPTER V 


MUNICIPAL KITE CONTESTS AND FALL 

SPOUTS 

The day following the holiday marks 
the opening of the municipal kite contest. 
Every boy who has been at all able has 
been busy for weeks making his kite and 
reel, for these annual contests are the 
great sport event of the year and every 
Korean boy at some time in his life has 
hoped for the championship of his village. 

The reel is made first. Five carefully 
rounded sticks are prepared, the fifth one 
being at least four inches longer than 
the others. The four of the same length 
are set together with crosspieces so that a 
rectangular framework eight inches square 
is formed. Across the ends, placed just 
inside the framework, are diagonal cross¬ 
pieces through which the fifth stick is 
passed and fixed firmly, hub fashion. This 

76 



How a Korean Boy Handles his Kite-Reel. 



Stone Buddha near Songdo. 



KITE CONTESTS AND SPORTS 77 


forms the handle of the reel and the length 
of the string is regulated by rotating this 
handle very quickly. 

The kite is made of a rectangular 
framework of bamboo which is seldom 
larger than a foot in width and about 
fifteen inches in length; more often the 
dimensions are smaller. Two diagonal 
crosspieces complete the framework. A 
certain peculiarly tough native paper is 
then stretched over the whole and care¬ 
fully glued so that none of the bamboo 
shows. At the intersection of the diag r 
onals a round piece the size of a dollar is 
cut out, and at this point the line is at¬ 
tached. Two short pieces of string are 
fastened a few inches along this mainline 
at a common point and the free ends are 
fastened to opposite upper corners. Col¬ 
ored paper is expensive, and, since each 
boy must furnish all his materials without 
cost to the family, the kites are usually 
unadorned. 

The line that has been spoken of is a 


78 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


very fine silken one. For many weeks 
previous, bits of broken bowls, crocks, and 
the like have been gathered and put away 
carefully. When the reel and kite are 
finished, these bits are pulverized. A 
small pot of glue is heated and the line is 
passed quickly through the hot glue, then 
through the pulverized mixture. The 
line must, of course, be dried thoroughly 
before it can be wound on the reel. 

In every village and city these contests 
take place at the same time of year, and 
everywhere the kites resemble a vast flock 
of gulls. This is not merely aimless fly¬ 
ing. There is a real purpose of vanquish¬ 
ing rivals by cutting their kites free by 
friction of line against line, aided by the 
abrasive with which the string was coated. 
This is where the art proclaims its true 
worth. If one whose kite is attacked is 
mentally alert, he scents danger immedi¬ 
ately and, in a flash, has unreeled his line. 
This averts cutting, for, to be effective, the 
sawing motion of the assailant’s line must 


KITE CONTESTS AND SPORTS 79 


fall on only one spot. As the kite strings 
are severed so quickly and amid such con¬ 
fusion, an adult wonders how the boys can 
distinguish anything. In a few hours, 
however, the victor of the day is carried 
off the hill, bearing the first prize, an event 
that is the great corner-stone of his child¬ 
hood. 

The sport is a fitting close to the sum¬ 
mer vacation, for as soon as the intense 
heat and humidity have decreased school 
opens. In a few weeks there is a decidedly 
cool breeze each night, after the suffocat¬ 
ing rays of the sun. With the nights 
grown cool, the streets immediately take 
on new garb. Dust lessens and the air 
begins to be filled with the odor of sweet 
potatoes roasting over charcoal. Every¬ 
where are tiny carts with kettles of hot 
soup; some selling fresh clams broiled over 
glowing coals. With October come the 
chestnuts. 

A majority of the venders are very 
small boys, who are doing their part to 


80 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


increase the family budget. The poorer 
Korean boy sees very little play; he must 
make his work his play, and it is touching, 
as well as inspiring, to see these little fel¬ 
lows sitting on the ground before their 
tiny fires, splitting the skins of the nuts, 
stirring the ones that are over the fire, 
and fanning the coals. Their little throats 
are often hoarse from singing their wares, 
but their bright, cheery attitude defies 
anything but admiration. 

September, October, and November are 
three of the most beautiful months in 
Korea. The skies are a beautiful blue 
overhead, humidity has lessened, there is 
a soft breeze that is just right in tempera¬ 
ture, harvesting has been finished, and the 
larders are bulging at the one time of the 
year when, for every one, there is a calm, 
serene peace that fills the heart. 

The clear air emphasizes the continual 
rat-a-tat-tat of the ironing sticks which 
are in more prominence at this time, for, 
very soon, the heavy cotton-padded gar- 



Washing in the Stream 






Ironing after the House is Still. 












KITE CONTESTS AND SPORTS 81 

ments must be worn. The same white cot¬ 
ton goods are used for winter clothing, 
but a thick cotton padding is added for 
warmth. When these garments are soiled, 
they must be ripped entirely apart, laun¬ 
dered, and remade. 

The native woman spends half her life 
laundering. At any time of the year a 
group may be seen at the side of any 
stream washing, even when the surface ice 
must be broken to reach the water. They 
have no wash-boards, but place the gar¬ 
ment on a flat rock and beat it with 
a wedge-shaped wooden washing-stick. 
When once more white, and this is only 
after long, laborious effort, the clothes are 
dried and saved until after all other house¬ 
work is finished at night. 

The ironing is done by two women who 
sit opposite each other with a shining flat 
oblong stone between. Each woman has 
a pair of smooth round ironing-sticks. 
The dried pieces of clothing are then 
placed side by side on this flat stone and 


82 WEEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


subjected to a thorough pounding. This 
process gives the fabric a wonderfully 
glossy finish, making it like new, and is 
probably the most satisfactory method of 
finish when laundering entails so much 
labor. In the summer, when the thin 
“ mo-see ” clothes are worn, the ironing is 
done by another method. A pan that is 
the duplicate of a frying-pan is used. 
This is made of iron, however, and bears a 
very smooth and shining bottom. Red-hot 
coals are placed in the pan. When the 
bottom becomes hot, it is ready for use. 
Two women are needed for this process 
also, for the garment cannot be placed on 
a flat surface, but must be stretched be¬ 
tween the women mid-air and ironed. 

One never sees a lone woman launder¬ 
ing at a stream. Visiting between homes 
is indulged in very little, and so when one 
sees these groups chattering together as 
they work, he realizes that the gathering 
is really, in a way, a social one. In the 
same manner, the week’s ironing becomes 


KITE CONTESTS AND SPORTS 83 

the occasion for mental relaxation. The 
children are all fast asleep, there are no 
other household chores to fill the mind, and 
one is always wise enough to select a 
congenial neighbor with whom to do the 
ironing. 

As the days grow colder, the boys are 
found fashioning tops of ordinary pine 
fire-wood. Occasionally there is a fond 
grandfather who labors for days making 
the next head of the house an especially 
marvelous top. This poor country, where 
there are no toy shops, is much different 
from America, where the grandfather may 
come home loaded with wonderful things 
purchased in a glittering store. The Ko¬ 
rean tops are shaped like American tops, 
but are used more on the ice than on the 
ground. When the ice is hard enough on 
the river, large groups are found top-driv¬ 
ing. The driver is a round wooden stick 
with about a foot and a half of heavy cord 
fastened to one end. The top is thrown on 
the ice and lashed quickly with the cord 


84 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

until a rotating motion is initiated. The 
top by this lashing, first from one side, 

then from the other, is kept spinning and 

\ 

made to travel in whichever direction the 
driver wishes. Even very small boys be¬ 
come proficient at this amusement and are 
able to keep the top going from two to 
three hours at a time. The smooth glisten¬ 
ing surface of the ice allows the top to 
travel rapidly with each stroke, and the 
boy must take long slides to keep up. We 
had no such luxury as skates when I was 
a boy, and what a pity, for what a sport 
top-driving could have become! 


CHAPTER VI 


NEW YEARNS HOLIDAY 

The third holiday is the greatest of all 

/ 

days throughout the Orient. The pulse 
of the nation automatically stops for fif¬ 
teen days. During the entire twelfth 
month the housewives are busy launder¬ 
ing, making new clothing, and changing 
the paper in their houses. The men are 
busy clearing up all business transactions, 
paying all debts, and putting their house 
in order. 

New Year’s day is started bright and 
early with a very delicious soup, in which 
is a particular delicacy called “ mandoo.” 
This is made of a thin wheat flour dough, 
with a highly seasoned meat and vegetable 
filling. 

This time of the year is especially pre¬ 
cious to the women of the land, for at no 

85 


86 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


other time do they exchange dinner calls 
and perform other social duties. With 
an abundance of clean clothes and new 
clothes, with her house well in order, with 
the delicacies prepared as far as possible, 
she seems a new individual. She has put 
aside the burden of every-day routine and 
goes from house to house paying her calls, 
tasting of the sweetmeats of her friends, 
drinking in the freedom of each one of the 
fifteen days. 

As one goes out into the streets, the only 
mass of color discernible during the year 
greets the eyes. Everywhere children are 
resplendent in bright silk padded coats 
with sleeves rivaling Joseph’s, being fash¬ 
ioned of narrow strips of various colors. 
As the wind blows the coat back, the bril¬ 
liant cerise vest peeps out and sometimes 
even the bright blue short-coat may be 
seen. On their heads are little helmet¬ 
shaped hoods with fur ear-laps and tail¬ 
pieces to protect their necks from the bit¬ 
ter winds of this season. This head-dress 



Finery for the Holiday. 






Preparing Flour for the Sweets. 




NEW YEAR’S HOLIDAY 


87 


is embellished with much gay embroidery 
and with tiny round looking-glasses for 
the younger ones, and many gold orna¬ 
ments for the wealthier class. Soft shades 
are unknown, so the colors are all very 
vivid and, at the time of year at which 
they are predominant, give a warmth to 
the general festivity. The hearts of the 
mothers are always glad when there is no 
snow at this time, for the colors are not 
fast and, after a hard storm, the costume 
is apt to take on the appearance of an 
artist’s palette. The idea that the child 
should remain at home in bad weather, in¬ 
stead of calling, is one that would never 
enter the mind, the custom is so old. 

Every household, during the week pre¬ 
ceding New Year’s day, has been busy 
wrapping money and pieces of jewelry, 
such as a chain, a charm, or an ornament 
for the head-dress, in colored paper. 
These packages are heaped in the outer 
waiting-room, the abundance depending 
upon the master’s business status and the 


88 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

number of his friends. A man in moder¬ 
ate circumstances would have prepared at 
least a hundred such gifts. A similar heap 
fills a corner of the inner waiting-room 
which is used only by the women members 
of the family. These jmckages contain 
candies, fruits, and cakes, however. Now 
it is the custom for the children of the 
family, always accompanied by their fath¬ 
ers, to pay New Year greetings to every 
friend and business acquaintance. This 
visit is made at any time during the fifteen 
days. After arriving at a friend’s house 
the son makes deep bows to the master, 
wishing him much joy and longevity. The 
master graciously acknowledges this and 
claps for a servant who presents the child 
with one of the packages from the corner. 
The little guest shows his gratitude by 
more deep bows. He is then led to the 
inner reception-room to greet the mistress 
of the house, while his father settles him¬ 
self for a smoke and a short chat with his 
friend, for men may not enter the inner 


NEW YEAR’S HOLIDAY 


89 


Court with the exception of the immediate 
members of the family. The same deep 
bows are given and, again, a servant 
presents a gift. The presents are stuffed 
into one of the very large pockets of the 
vest, and the youngster is ready to go on 
to the next establishment. The circum¬ 
ference of children with the cotton-wadded 
clothes is already impressive, but with the 
four large pockets of the vest filled to 
overflowing, one can imagine the peculiar 
shapes seen upon the streets at this time 
of year. 

This is the only time at which gifts are 
made especially to the children, and every 
one prides himself upon his generosity. 
The money and jewelry received by some 
little guests whose fathers have extensive 
business operations may reach a total of 
several hundred yen, a fact that is readily 
understood when it is remembered that 
Korean gold is always a pure twenty-four- 
carat metal without any alloy. Since the 
children always have some spending 


i 


90 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


money at this time, energetic money¬ 
makers are apt to bring to the village such 
amusements as a side-show consisting of a 
monkey and a tiger, or acrobats whose 
chief feat consists of balancing themselves 
upon one another’s shoulders, a marvel 
only to be seen at this time. 

Throughout the Orient firecrackers and 
fireworks furnish a great deal of the ex¬ 
citement at this time. In very olden days, 
it was believed that the noise and bright 
flashes frightened away the evil spirits. 
This superstition no longer prevails, but 
the custom is one that adds gaiety and 
brightness, and so has withstood the test 
of centuries. The fund for the amuse¬ 
ment is provided by the municipality or 
a benevolent person in the village who, you 
may be certain, becomes the beloved patri¬ 
arch in the years following. 

To this day, China is known the world 
over for her firecrackers and fireworks. 
The crackers are suspended in a string of 
from ten to fifty thousand in number and 


NEW YEAR’S HOLIDAY 


91 


fired from the bottom. A bomb tops the 
string and its report terminates the fusil¬ 
lade. I remember particularly that, with 
the explosion of the bomb, a ball of fire 
would shoot into the sky and be trans¬ 
formed into the lighted shape of a man, a 
fish, or sometimes a lantern. 

The boys amuse themselves on the ice 
with small sleds about eighteen inches 
square. They squat upon these singly, 
and, with a sharpened ice-pick in each 
hand to push themselves, go sailing down 
the rivers for miles w r ith incredible speed. 
No top-driving impedes their progress, for 
Korea is one of the most seasonal coun¬ 
tries known. The season for tops is be¬ 
fore the holiday, and no hoy would think 
of playing with them at any other time. 

Just so, the girls jump on their seesaws 
at this time. The seesaws are like those 
in the States, but instead of sitting on the 
ends of the planks the girls stand on them. 
As one end goes down with the sudden 
weight of a youngster, the girl on the 


92 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

other end is tossed high into the air. The 
exercise is invigorating but daring, and it 
is hard to believe that these are the same 
quiet girls of the rest of the year. 

The food eaten at this time is of the best. 
The rice in every home is of flaky white¬ 
ness. At all other times, in the majority 
of homes, the rice is mixed with small red 
beans, green peas, millet, or larger beans, 
both for variation of taste and economy, 
but on the holidays the rice reigns alone in 
its glory of unbroken whiteness for every 
one. When one mentions rice in this 
country he simultaneously thinks of 
“ kim-chee,” a national dish without 
which no meal, however meager, is com¬ 
plete. The dish is a type of highly sea¬ 
soned pickle which is made in every house¬ 
hold just before the first frost. The side- 
dishes include delicious preparations of 
venison, pheasant, and wild boar, as well 
as the usual pork and beef. 

Mounds of dainty little cakes which 
are made of rice or bean flour and 



The Feast 










NEW YEAR’S HOLIDAY 


93 


covered with green or pink puffed 
rice, sesame seed, or peanuts, appear 
on every small table. On other brass 
stands is a candy made of barley flour 
and malt. The syrup is not pulled, 
but is cooked to the consistency at which 
it will hold its shape on being poured. A 
pulverized bean flour is made and round 
patties of the syrup poured into it; then 
nuts are pressed into the candies as they 
are lifted from the flour. 

These sweets are accompanied by a 
delicious pale-amber drink, in which are 
floating several blanched pine-nuts. Pine- 
nuts of Korea are at least the dignified 
ancestors of those in the West; they are 
two to three times as large, with their 
shells as thick in comparison. The Dia¬ 
mond Mountains are famous the Orient 
over for scenery and for pine-nuts, and, 
in autumn, huge pine-cones can be pur¬ 
chased with the nuts in their original hab¬ 
itat. The pale-amber fluid is made of wild 
honey combined with a fruit juice. Bees 


94 WHEN I A BOY IN KOREA 


have not been cultivated to any extent in 
the country and the universal sweetening 
agent in the household is wild honey, gath¬ 
ered from the hives found in the rocks. 
In a mountainous country covered with 
the greatest variety of wild flowers from 
early spring to very late autumn, it is pos¬ 
sible to believe the flavor most delicious. 

And so the time passes quickly in feast¬ 
ing and visiting, and the fifteenth day, 
which marks the close of the festivities, 
comes all too soon. On this day each 
housewife prepares twelve kinds of dishes 
of vegetables, for it is said that one should 
eat nine different times. The moon is 
usually full and, as evening approaches, 
each family can be seen carrying its mats 
to the top of the nearest hill to watch it 
rise. Those who are farmers wish at this 
time for an abundant crop; those whose 
households have not yet been blessed by 
the advent of children wish for a son; 
those in poor health ask for good health. 
All these favors are asked of the moon 


NEW YEAR’S HOLIDAY 


95 


whose beneficent powers cannot be sought 
after at any other time. As the moon 
rides higher, the worshippers turn towards 
their homes with a sigh; the holiday is 
over and, on the morrow, life must resume 
its ordinary tenor. 


CHAPTER VII 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 

To understand the use of the expres¬ 
sions “ inner ” and “ outer ” reception- 
rooms, one must see just how a simple 
house is constructed. The floor plan is 
always in the shape of the letter “ H.” 
The plans may be elaborated but the fun¬ 
damental is always the same. The rooms 
are built in dimensions of eight feet or 
multiples of eight feet. 

At one side of the H is built the kitchen, 
the floor of which is formed by the ground 
itself. The floors of the rest of the struc¬ 
ture are raised two feet above the ground. 
On the side of the kitchen, connecting with 
the other rooms on that side of the 
house, are built three low brick fire¬ 
places, each holding an iron cooking- 
vessel which is cemented in permanently. 
The flues run parallel to one another 

96 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 97 

the entire length of the floors of the 
rooms on that side and meet in a com¬ 
mon outlet just outside the wall of the last 
room. These flues are also connected by; 
a horizontal arm in the fireplace so that, 
even though a fire is made under only 
one cooking-vessel, the smoke will find its 
way into the other flues and heat the entire 
floor. Fuel is very expensive, and the 
heating system is doubtless one that was 
the result of necessary economy. The 
floors are made of thin stone flagging and, 
while they are excellent conductors, they 
are also splendid retainers of heat. 

t i 

In olden days, wood alone was used in 
these fireplaces and the house was heated 
only when a meal was being prepared. A 
small grate has been devised, in later 
years, whereby small briquets made of coal 
dust and a peculiar clay found in the 
North mav be used. These will burn 
slowly and keep the house heated through¬ 
out the day and night. In summer, the 
cooking is done out of doors. 


98 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


The room connecting one side of the 
house with the other is not heated and 
boasts of the only wooden floor in the 
building. This is a very thick pine floor 
bearing a beautiful gloss which comes only 
from long, laborious rubbing with soy¬ 
bean oil. A platform flanks this room, 
which has no doors. No shoes are worn in 
a Korean house, and each member of the 
family, as well as guests of the inner court, 
leaves his shoes on this platform. 

The opposite side of the house is called 
the outer court and is identical in plan 
with the inner court, with the exception of 
a room corresponding to the kitchen. This 
part has its own entrance, with a platform 
on the exterior wall. This section is oc¬ 
cupied entirely by the male members of 
the family. One of the rooms is called the 
“ sa-rang ” which is the master’s recep¬ 
tion-room. In this room only are his call¬ 
ers received, and if they are dinner guests 
the meal is served in this room. A room 
is never more than eight feet wide, al- 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 99 


though it may be longer. A court is thus 
formed, the inner quarters on one side, the 
unheated room at one end, the third side 
bounded by the men’s quarters, and the 
fourth by a wall so that as one walks along 
the streets he can see little else. This 
open space varies with the wealth of the 
tenant but is so universal that it is really 
considered a part of the house, for it is 
here that much of the housekeeping is 
done. 

The stone floors are covered with a thick 
oiled paper, parchment taking its place 
when the wealth is great enough. These 
coverings are kept immaculately clean and 
are relaid once a year. The necessity for 
this is seen in the fact that the garb of the 
nation is white in all seasons and every 
one sits on the floor. 

The lower half of the walls of the house, 
on the outside, resembles pudding-stone. 
Cement is used and, before it is dry, rocks 
are pressed into it. The upper half is 
made of interwoven rope matting into 



) > 
) ) > 


100 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


which clay paste, strengthened with small 
pebbles mixed with the clay, is forced. 
This foundation is then finished with a 
smooth yellow clay. The wall surfaces 
inside the rooms are carefully covered 
with plain white paper, fastened with 
paste. 

The roofs, however, are the crowning 
glories of these little homes. The poorer 
people can afford only thatch which is 
made from rice-straw. Ends of straws are 
skilfully interwoven, to form a ridge along 
the rooftree. When this is in place, the 
dangling loose ends are fastened down 
with rope of the same material. The roofs 
are most picturesque. When renewal is 
necessary, another layer is simply placed 
over the old so that, eventually, the whole 
looks moulded with lines that are well- 
rounded and in perfect harmony with the 
squat little house it covers. The natives 
see none of this beauty, however, and as 
soon as a man is able he invests in a tile 
roof. These tiles are made of a very dark 


< i 

( c < 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 101 


clay and so shaped before firing that they 
are about a foot long, a third as wide, and 
are curved trough-like. When placed on 
their straw foundation the trough cavity 
is filled with a red mud, cement holding 
the tiles at the sides to those adjoining. 
There are always troubles with such roofs 
for the torrents in the long rainy season 
wash the mud out, the tiles lose the firm 
position which the mud afforded, and there 
is disastrous leaking. 

The entire framework of the house is 
made of the slender unfinished trunks of 
small pines. No nails are used; when a 
connection is necessary a hole is drilled 
through the entire trunk. Little pine- 
trunks, about four inches in diameter, 
form the rafters. It is a constant source 
of wonderment where all the pines come 
from. 

Small sliding windows are found in each 
room, covered with native paper. They 
are for light only and are placed high so 
that one cannot look out of them. Doors 


102 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


are all of the sliding variety and covered 
with the same white paper. The level of 
the threshold is never flush with the floor 
and a Westerner is at no little inconveni¬ 
ence when he finds he must lift his foot at 
least fourteen or sixteen inches to cross 
the threshold. The reason for this can 
readily be seen when one recalls that in 
sitting on the floor, precautions have to 
he taken to eliminate the draught that 
sweeps over the floor from under the 
western door, and especially from under 
one that opens to the immediate outside, 
as in the case of the unheated room of the 
Korean home. 

For furniture, we have chests which are 
very attractive when of the better grade. 
In the “ maru ” or unheated connecting 
room there is always a very heavy pine 
chest which opens like a flour bin, from 
the side. This is provided for rice and 
other cereals, and the abundance of the 
contents is the pride of the housewife’s 
heart. In the other rooms are chests of an- 



The Maru where Food is Prepared. 


















The Builder 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 103 


other type, resembling a two- or three¬ 
decked cupboard. They may be very or¬ 
nate, made of ebony with mother-of-pearl 
inlay, or they may be simpler, with no in¬ 
lay but made of beautiful old woods and 
polished carefully. The corners of their 
doors and the handles on the doors are 
always brass. These chests hold virtually 
all the family’s belongings, and there is no 
other furniture, unless it be a low narrow 
table which is used as a work-table for ev¬ 
ery purpose. Beds, like those of the Japa¬ 
nese, consist of thick pads and comforts 
that are spread upon the floors at night, 
but rolled up and placed upon a shelf by 
day. You may wonder where the dining¬ 
room is, for, even when the house is that of 
a wealthy man, the rooms consist of 
kitchen, “ maru,” and other such rooms as 
spoken of. Each adult eats alone, and 
when the meal is prepared an entire table 
is set completely with all edibles and car¬ 
ried to the individual rooms, no trays be¬ 
ing used. The table is a small four-legged 


104 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


one, about eighteen by twenty-four inches 
in size. The only exception to the custom 
of serving no more than one at a table is 
in homes of abject poverty or where there 
are two boys or two girls of the same age 
in the family. This custom of having the 
entire meal served to one person at a time 
has its advantages, for there is no neces¬ 
sity of clearing between courses. When 
the diner finishes, the table is carried from 
the room. The men are served in the outer 
quarters and, always, first. 

The interesting thing about the pre¬ 
pared table is the ware upon it. There are 
two large bowls and countless smaller 
ones, the smallest of which may be only 
an inch in diameter. They are all made of 
brass and all have covers. In olden times, 
the bowls were works of art, for all brass 
was hand-beaten; and were an empty bowl 
accidentally struck, its ring could be heard 
for fully thirty seconds later. There are 
chop-sticks of brass also, and a spoon. 

The Koreans use a spoon much more 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 105 


constantly than either the Japanese or 
Chinese. Rice is always eaten with a 
spoon, as well as many of the side-dishes 
for which chop-sticks would be considered 
quite adequate by the Chinese. A chop- 
slick is a chop-stick, but the spoon has an 
individuality. The shaft is at least seven 
inches in length. The bowl is a wide, very 
shallow affair reminding one of a slightly 
scooped flapjack-turner. If one knows its 
proper use, however, it must be satis¬ 
factory, for great quantities can be eaten 
with it in a very short time. 

You have heard what a feast embodies, 
but after all, it is the every-day food that 
one lives on. The Korean man or child 
eats rice, or, if that is too expensive, rice 
mixed with millet, peas, or beans, cooked 
in the same manner three times a day. 
This cereal is so prepared that the water is 
just sufficient to allow each kernel to stand 
separately, flaky and palatable, never sod¬ 
den with moisture. There is always a 
thick soup made of different vegetables 


106 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


and a little meat. The kettle of soup is 
kept on a charcoal-burner by the side of 
the table, and while the rest of the food 
may be cold, the soup is served boiling 
hot. The small bowls contain bits of 
salted fish, fresh fish, bean-cake, and sal¬ 
ads made of wilted greens seasoned with 
pepper, sesame oil, and bean sauce. Then 
there are always the red-pepper mash, the 
brown salt-bean mash, and “ kim-chee,” 
without which no meal is ever complete. 

Ordinarily no dessert is eaten; this is 
a luxury reserved for the holidays. There 
are two reasons for this, first the cost, and 
second the time element. No housewife 
can go to a store, as in America, and pur¬ 
chase the ingredients necessary for the 
sweets. She must purchase the raw prod¬ 
ucts and spend two or more days prepar¬ 
ing the various flours which are to be used 
in making the confections. 

Breakfast is the heaviest meal of the 
day. Then a table will contain as many as 
ten little side-dishes, besides soup and rice. 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 107 


/ 

Lunch, and often the families have only 
two meals a day, includes a bowl of soup 
with pastries in it, a bit of kim-chee, and 
red-pepper mash. Supper is a miniature 
breakfast. 

The housewife, with her limited kitchen 
facilities and the added cold of the win¬ 
ters, does not experiment with foods, as 
does her Western sister. To the present 
day no oven has been invented, and the 
savory dishes of oven-cooking are entirely 
outside the Korean menu. Oil is very 
expensive and is used for frying only oc¬ 
casionally. The two things that impress 
a foreigner about a Korean meal are that 
everything is very highly seasoned with 
red-pepper, children partaking of food 
that a newcomer could not think of eat¬ 
ing in comfort; and that there is always 
kim-chee on the table. 

In the early autumn, after the red-pep¬ 
pers are harvested, all about can be seen 
rich red blotches against the thatch of the 
roofs. These are peppers that have been 


108 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


placed there for drying, and not the beau¬ 
tiful foliage of the mountains that is so 
common. When the peppers are entirely 
dry the thud-thud of macerating them fills 
the village or street. A section of a very 
large tree-trunk has been hollowed to form 
a deep bowl and the peppers are pounded 
in this with a huge wooden mallet. One 
glance at the wielder of the mallet is con¬ 
vincing evidence that the condiment is 
considered a very necessary article of diet. 
Her face is swollen and suffused; the very 
air about makes the tears come and the 
nostrils sting. A good part of the finished 
product will be used in making mash. A 
variety of spices, a little meat chopped fine, 
and water are added; this is boiled and 
placed in the sun to ripen, and is delicious 
when well prepared. The use of this con¬ 
diment in such quantities may have some 
relation to the fact that, with the excep¬ 
tion of the cereal, the soup, and another 
hot dish, the Korean foods are served cold. 
This is in striking contrast to the food of 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 109 


the Chinese, who eat everything piping 
hot and use almost no red-pepper. 

Many of the side-dishes, such as the red- 
pepper mash, are prepared only once a 
season and placed in crocks. The courts 
are always lined with such crocks of all 
sizes, some being large enough for an adult 
to hide in, some so small as to hold only 
a small melon. These vessels are always 
furnished with tightly fitting covers which 
are removed on sunshiny days, for it is 
upon the sun’s action that the flavors of 
manv rest. As one looks into the court of 
a home of wealth, one thinks of the “ forty 
barrels of boiling oil,” there are so many 
of these large brown vessels. On one side 
of such enclosures there is always a clear¬ 
ing. Just before the first frost, the ground 
is dug up and a number of large crocks 
are buried. These are for the kim-chee, 
the national dish. 

After the cotton-padded clothes have 
been made, the housewife must turn her 
mind to the annual preparation of kim- 


110 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


chee which is vastly more important than 
fruit-preserving is in the West. The 
first week of November finds the streets 
filled with carts and jiggies loaded with 
Korean cabbage, a vegetable that has long 
waxen-white stalks and large green leaves, 
looking something like an overgrown 
bunch of celery. Indeed, among Oc¬ 
cidentals, it is often called “ celery cab? 
bage.” 

The carts are small two-wheeled ones 
pulled by a single man, or four-wheeled 
ones drawn by a slow-moving ox. There 
is no device for reins for driving the ani¬ 
mal, and the man who accompanies the 
load walks by its head, guiding it. In 
transportation of necessities to the inland 
villages which are not touched by railroad, 
these men walk very often over a hundred 
miles, their feet protected by nothing but 
rough straw sandals. Should a farmer not 
own a cart, he carries his produce to 
market on a jiggy. These are made by 
fastening parallel, the space between be- 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 111 


ing the width of the carrier’s back, two 
large crotches cut from a tree. A basket 
or tray rests in the angles of the crotches. 
Rope is fastened to each side, forming 
loops through which the man thrusts his 
arms. Loads carried in this manner are 
often enormous. It is not uncommon to 
find a carrier who can manage five hun¬ 
dred pounds for no short distance. 

Every available space is planted with 
cabbage, but a safe estimate of one hun¬ 
dred heads per capita per season tells that 
all grown in the district is never enough, 
and so these loads have come from far in 
the country. Not infrequently the cart or 
jiggy has been brought over a distance 
that has taken two to three days to cover. 
A load may bring a yen or two, for when 
full-grown these plants are both large and 
heavy, and three sen a head is top price. 

Kim-chee “ bees ” are held in every vil¬ 
lage and district. Even schools observe 
this busy time with a three-day vacation so 
that time can be devoted to the making. 


112 WEEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


Each household takes its turn, every one 
helping the designated house for the day. 
A large household will put up as many 
as a thousand heads of cabbage and two 
or three hundred pounds of turnips, which 
are also an ingredient of kim-chee. Both 
vegetables are thoroughly cleansed at the 
wells. Everything is then soaked in brine 
for a night. The turnips are then simply 
scraped and cut, but the cabbage is treated 
more elaborately. While the washing has 
been going on, others have prepared a 
finely blended mixture of ginger, garlic, 

! 

onion, red-pepper (both the shredded and 
the pulverized), mustard, cinnamon, and 
shrimp paste. This latter is often varied 
with fish. Each cabbage is then carefully 
filled with the prepared paste, each leaf 
being separated from the adjoining ones 
and a generous amount tucked in. In 
parting the leaves, great care is taken each 
time not to break the leaves from the 
mother stalk. The stuffed cabbages are 
then placed in the buried “ toques ” or 



Toques in the Courtyard. 









A Jiggy Carrier, 






KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 113 

crocks, where their own juice gradually 
seeps out and immerses the contents. A 
lid is provided and the toques sealed up 
to undergo the necessary changes brought 
about by freezing. The pickle is at its 
best for the New Year holiday, when it is 
often necessary to break the ice on the sur¬ 
face to be able to reach any of the cab¬ 
bage. The supply is always sufficient to 
last until the end of spring, when the 
warm weather excites fermentation and 
renders it unfit for use. 

The foreigner is yet to be found who 
does not enjoy this relish, even among 
those whose taste for such seasonings as 
those used is lacking. A newcomer is never 
in the country very long before he com¬ 
ments upon the beautiful white teeth of 
most of the inhabitants. This is attrib¬ 
uted by those who have studied the mat¬ 
ter somewhat to the universal use of kim- 
chee, with its firm texture and salt con¬ 
tent. 

During the hot months a similar relish 


114 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

is made every morning. This is naturally 
simpler, and only small amounts may be 
prepared, for, by night, the heat has 
soured it. Even in summer, however, in 
this relish, as in kim-chee, red-pepper 
abounds. The relish is served cut cross¬ 
wise, and is very attractive with the red 
of the pepper, the yellow of the ginger, 
and the white and green of the cabbage 
itself. 

In the North, famed for its buckwheat 
noodles, the juice is used instead of broth, 
the noodles being thoroughly chilled be¬ 
fore being used. Buckwheat noodles are 
eaten the country over as a simple meal 
or luncheon dish, and, in the meat-shops, 
bone is as expensive as the meat, for there 
is such a demand for soup. In a city where 
there are many noodle eating-houses, there 
will also be a soup-shop. Here there can 
be seen at any time of the day or night a 
great vat of bubbling soup-stock which 
may be purchased by the gallon for each 
establishment. These eating-houses must 


KOREAN HOMES AND LIVING 115 


grind their own flour and make their own 
noodles, so they are very glad to be able to 
purchase broth already prepared. 

One marvels always at the amount of 
work that is accomplished with the simple 
devices available. The noodles, for in¬ 
stance, are made by forcing a batter 
through small perforations drilled through 
a scooped-out log. The force is applied by 
the end of another log formed so that it 
just fits the aperture. .When it is brought 
down, the noodles formed fall directly into 
a small kettle of boiling water where they 
are cooked immediately, to keep them from 
sticking together. They are again heated 
before being served, and with a rich soup- 
stock and garnish they furnish as nourish¬ 
ing and tempting a dish as could be wished 
for. 

No eating-house would think of serving 
such a dish without the national relish, and 
the amount of cabbage prepared by these 
public houses is enormous, for a patron 
may demand as much of it as he pleases. 


116 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


The seasonings are less expensive, and 
often consist of very little other than the 
hot spices. Such delicacies as shrimp 
paste and shredded pear—which is indeed 
a luxury—are entirely unknown to their 


menus. 



At the Well. 




Typical Market Scene at Kim-Chee Time. 





CHAPTER VIII 


KOREAN SWEETS, AND GINSENG 

There are few every-day sweets in a 
Korean child’s life. This has had the 
happy effect of developing each child into 
a nature-student as well as a nature-lover. 
Each boy and girl knows the exact time 
of season to seek a tidbit in the mountains. 
Like their elders, they think nothing of 
walking five or six miles in search of the 
berry they know to be ripe. In early sum¬ 
mer, when the days are long, these little 
figures may be seen on the roads hurrying 
home with their small baskets filled with 
wild strawberries. A month later, they 
are found climbing trees loaded down with 
the native date, a small greenish-brown 
fruit that has a pleasant sweet taste and, 
when dried, is used in soups, puddings, 
and fancy cakes in the winter months. 

Still later, their pockets are found bulging 

117 


118 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


with a bright orange-colored fruit that is 
also sweet. The pulp is eaten carefully, 
without breaking the contour of the skin. 
These skins the children then inflate until 
a sharp report announces that the pseudo¬ 
balloon has reached its limit in size. In 
early fall a few chestnuts in their green 
burrs are taken home so the children may 
watch them burst their bonds; but the 
crop is allowed to ripen on the trees. 
Even in winter the boys and girls know 
where to look between the rocks for a cer¬ 
tain long slender succulent root that is as 
sweet as sugar-cane, but most tender. 

Being in the mountains so much has its 
advantage, for there is seldom news that 
a child has been lost. In the most remote 
regions one will come upon a small figure 
with a little jiggy upon his back. In one 
hand he carries a bamboo rake, and we 
know immediately that he is out gathering 
fire-wood for the family fireplace. There 
are no dead branches underfoot in these 
mountains. Even the pine-needles that 


KOREAN SWEETS, AND GINSENG 119 


have been shed have been raked together 
and carried away for fuel. Where there 
are no schools or the family is too poor to 
send the children, the little ones spend 
their entire time, from early morning right 
after breakfast until supper-time at dusk, 
searching for fire-wood. It is small won¬ 
der that these children can tell where they 
will find the delicate pink azalea which 
they consider such good food. 

The greatest find, however, is that of 
real ginseng, and the quest is such an art 
that no child has ever brought it home. 
The ginseng plant is, above ground, an 
unobtrusive shrub of few leaves. It is 
the root that is valuable and, although the 
likeness is hard to be seen, it is supposed 
to resemble the human form; the more it 
resembles a man, the more precious does it 
become. All the nations of the East prize 
this herb for its supposed life-giving prop¬ 
erties, and much of the export trade here 
is of cultivated ginseng. Occasionally men 
as much as eighty or ninety years of age 


120 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


may be seen going about their daily rou¬ 
tine in the severest of winter’s cold with 
no heavy outer protection. Invariably these 
men will give a history of poor health in 
early youth that was entirely overcome 
by the use of the herb, which must be 
“ genuine ” to have real powers. The cul¬ 
tivated species is used widely as a tonic, 
but no marvels are accredited to it. A re¬ 
turn of good health attributed to it is sup¬ 
posedly enjoyed for only a period of from 
two to three years, whereas the effects of 
“ genuine ” ginseng are said to cover at 
least thirty years. 

Those seeking the precious native spe¬ 
cies usually devote their lives to it. It be¬ 
comes almost a religion, for often the 
hunters are not compensated adequately 
for the privations which they so often must 
bear, and a fanatical zeal must actuate 
them. The mountains are still inhabited 
by tigers and other dangerous wild ani¬ 
mals, and not infrequently these men do 
not come back from the search. 


KOREAN SWEETS, AND GINSENG 121 

Before going into the mountains these 
men renounce everything worldly. They 
then cleanse themselves as thoroughly as 
is in their knowledge, in mind, body, and 
dress. Never during the search are they 
contaminated by contact with man and 
his lowly life. Food consists of such ber¬ 
ries, roots, shrubs, and nuts as can he 
found; drink is only that from the cool 
streams that abound. They sleep in the 
open, learning to endure temperatures 
that others could not stand. Morning and 
night they offer fervent prayers to the 
gods, asking that they be made worthy of 
such a mission. Such men may live in 
this manner in the mountains for as long 
as ten years before they have made their 
find, and it is not peculiar that, after such 
solitude and concentration of thought on 
clean living, they have about them an in¬ 
definable atmosphere of peace of mind. 
The ordinary mountain-climber or casual 
visitor has no means of even identifying 
this herb, and it is probably only the long 


122 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


living with the shrubs of different kinds 
and the closeness with which they study 
each one that enable the seekers to find 
the precious ginseng root. 

Not all of these men are successful, by 
any means. Some, after devoting as many 
as twenty years to the search, give it up, 
feeling that they, in some way, have not 
been worthy and on this account have not 
succeeded. These men become very often 
the sages of their communities, they have 
so learned the tolerance of living. It 
would seem that since the genuine root is 
so powerful, the finding of it would mean 
success in everything. As a matter of fact, 
after such a find is made, the man is in as 
much trouble as he was in starting on his 
search. 

On account of the ever-ready market 
for the real, there are always impostors 
who are stocked with clever imitations 
selected from the cultivated supply. 
These tricksters are very shrewd and, with 
their silver tongues, are able to convince 


KOREAN SWEETS, AND GINSENG 123 

the buyer that there is none more real. 
For their pains they often receive as much 
as five thousand yen. The truth is known, 
however, after the medicine is taken and 
such an experience makes the buyer more 
wary. The interesting thing is that these 
herb-believers never for a minute lose faith 
in the efficacy of the herb that has been 
sold them; if it falls short of expected re¬ 
sults, it is simply not the grade it was sup¬ 
posed to be. 

It is to this suspicious market that the 
man who has spent the best part of his 
life in hardship comes. Often he trudges 
through hundreds of villages unable to 
convince any one, for, unlike his shrewd 
brother, his long separation from man has 
made his speech less cunning, and, in the 
end, he sells for a mere pittance to keep 
from starving. On one occasion that we 
knew of, the man who purchased was a 
poor man and he regained his health so 
miraculously that the rich of the village 
who would not believe offered a great sum 


124 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

for the discoverer to start another search. 
His faith in mankind gone, he refused and 
soon died from the exposure he had suf¬ 
fered going from village to village. 

Ginseng, in Western medicine, is not 
supposed to have any value, and yet when 
one sees the faith and apparent well-being 
of the users in the East, one wonders if 
the method of preparation can have any 
bearing on its reputed efficacy. The root 
is grated carefully and steamed with a 
squab, a pheasant, or a particularly tender 
bit of venison. Like all Oriental medi¬ 
cines, it is not taken in concentrated form 
in small quantities, but in abundant quan¬ 
tities like an effusion. One of the favor¬ 
ite uses of the dried date is to accompany 
bowls of dark bitter teas, for few herbs 
are given in as palatable form as the gin¬ 
seng. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE EMPEROR AND HIS SUBORDINATES 

When I was a boy, the Emperor still 
reigned in all his splendor.* His Highness 
lived in Seoul, which at once marked it 
as the only worth-while place in the coun¬ 
try. To every Korean, then, there were 
just two divisions of the peninsula, Seoul 
and the “ Segul,” which means country 
in the sense of rural district. From child¬ 
hood until death every true native cher¬ 
ished a secret ambition to visit Seoul, for 
if royalty had chosen it of all sites, it must 
be really the choice of the land. 

Traveling to Seoul always meant days 

* Following the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5, a 
Japanese protectorate was established over Korea, 
since which time this ancient kingdom has not known 
independence. In 1907 the Emperor abdicated in favor 
of the Crown Prince. In 1910 the Emperor yielded his 
sovereignty to Japan, and Korea was formally annexed 
to the Japanese Empire. Members of the Korean Im¬ 
perial House and high officials were given Japanese 
titles, dignities, and honors, but were deprived of all 
semblance of power. It was at this time that Korea’s 
ancient name, Cho-Sen, was revived. 

125 


126 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOBE A 


of weary walking, for oxen were used only 
to carry baggage or produce to be sold; 
but, in spite of this, whenever the oppor¬ 
tunity presented itself, even the small boy 
was up before dawn and in a short while 
could be found stumbling along behind his 
father, who seemed better able to feel the 
Ideep ruts in the heavy darkness. Under 
ordinary circumstances there was some 
complaint, if only out of fear of the dark; 
but on such an occasion, the joy in his 
heart made his feet light, and he came 
home with tales of the sights he had seen 
that made even the largest boy in the vil¬ 
lage stand in awe. 

As the party came to the outskirts of 
the village, even in the dark a great pile 
of stones loomed up and cast a dark 
shadow. This was a “ Devil Pile,” an ac¬ 
knowledgment of the tradition that evil 
spirits dwelt there; and to insure a safe 
journey the passer-by was expected to 
contribute to the heap. So such heaps 
grow in size as the years pass, not because 



Devil Post and Pile of Stones Opposite. 




Sorting for Market 





THE EMPEROR 


127 


the old superstition is still believed in, but, 
more probably, because the placing of the 
rocks affords a break in the monotony of 
a trip that is through a country where 
there is little change in things that one 
meets. 

Lunch was always prepared at home, 
and when the sun was high the party 
stopped to refresh itself. Distances were 
so calculated that at sundown travelers 
were well within the hospitality of another 
village. A curfew sounded in the cities at 
this time and, at the first stroke, the mas¬ 
sive iron gates which stood open through 
the day were swung shut. Any traveler 
wishing to enter the city had to do so be¬ 
fore this time, for, once closed, the gates 
could not be opened until dawn the next 
morning, and since guards were always 
stationed, scaling the wall would have 
meant death. This custom of closing the 
gates early, as well as that of closing the 
houses and inns at sundown in the villages, 
was probably for protection against ani- 


128 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


mals as much as against wandering war¬ 
ring bandits. 

Big game in Korea was unusually 
plentiful, for firearms were very limited, 
both on account of the cost and the fact 
that only two classes might possess such 
weapons. These were the professional 
hunter, and the man of the leisure class 
who was able to afford it for entertain¬ 
ment. 

The professional hunter tracked his 
quarry for miles before he could corner it. 
After shooting it, he had to carry it on his 
back to the nearest village to sell. If his 
game proved too large, such as a tiger 
—and this was not uncommon—a two¬ 
wheeled cart was borrowed from the 
nearest farmer and the prey taken to the 
hunter’s own village. Tie immediately 
flayed the beast and took the skin to the 
presiding magistrate as a gift, for he had 
committed a crime, that of having killed a 
king of beasts; and an old tradition says 
that a mere commoner cannot kill a king, 


THE EMPEROR 


129 


be he man or beast. The magistrate, 
upon receiving the skin, ordered the man 
flogged for his deed. This was a formality 
to appease the gods, and the flogging was 
light indeed. After a sharp rebuke and 
more flogging, the culprit was ordered to 
stand directly before the magistrate, who 
presented him with a small silken bag. 
The hunter bowed deeply and was dis¬ 
missed. The bag always contained a num¬ 
ber of gold coins, as many as the magis¬ 
trate deemed a good price for the skin. 
He never took unfair advantage, which 
could have been done so easily, since the 
skin might be sold to no one else. 

These magistrates were usually men 
possessed of a keen knowledge of human 
reactions for they had themselves very 
often encountered hardships, appointed as 
they were. Korea was divided into thir¬ 
teen provinces, with a governor at the head 
of each one. This man was directly re¬ 
sponsible to the Emperor, who chose these 
subordinates in a simple manner. 


130 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


Every year examinations in Chinese 
classics were held in each province. The 
only requisite for eligibility was that the 
candidate must be fifteen years of age. 
Social status, wealth, and family were of 
no consequence. The number of times that 
one person might aspire to enter as a can¬ 
didate was unlimited, and there are cases 
on record of men who tried and failed for 
twenty years in succession. 

These examinations were a thorough 
test of the candidate’s knowledge of the 
classics, and the year between was always 
spent in hard study. The family endured 
any privation to allow the one member all 
the leisure that such a scholar deserved. 
Only the highest was chosen; that meant 
only one candidate in each province every 
year was successful, however large the 
number of contestants might be. The 
successful scholar was given the highest 
position vacant in the official ranks of his 
province at the time. 

This was a time of anxiety for the gov- 


THE EMPEROR 131 

ernors, for their terms were of no definite 
period. They might be deposed at any 
time by their fanciful Emperor, who very 
often gave the coveted position to a new 
scholar who had taken his fancy. Once 
appointed, the governor selected his own 
officers, who were naturally friends of his 
humbler days, rather than known scholars. 
In this manner he appointed his magis¬ 
trates who took care of a certain area of 
the province. These officers were the last 
court of appeal, and at any time when an 
amicable agreement could not be reached, 
each alone heard the case and passed judg¬ 
ment upon it. 

In the village where we attended school 
there was a striking case of common sense, 
which, at the time, was considered infinite 
wisdom, and which settled a dispute be¬ 
tween an oil vender and a crippled blind 
man. The oil vender had come before the 
official on the plea that the blind man had 
taken a sack of money from him. In re¬ 
turning to the village it had been neces- 


132 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


sary to cross the river by the flat-bottomed 
ferry. In those times cash and copper 
pieces were most common as currency, and 
were the forms of money with which the 
oil peddler would most likely have been 
paid. His sales were not large, for as he 
would go from house to house, each house¬ 
wife would purchase only enough to fill 
her tiny bowl for the light of the even¬ 
ing. 

Business had been better than usual on 
that day, so his money-bag was too heavy 
to keep in his hand, and, of course, much 
too bulky to put into his pocket. He, 
accordingly, had put the bag on the floor 
of the ferry between himself and the blind 
man, who had stood next to him. Carry¬ 
ing money in such fashion was common, 
and when the bag had been placed on the 
floor, it had not been done noiselessly; 
instead, the bag had hit the floor with 
the customary dull jangle of the cash. 
As the ferry neared the opposite moor¬ 
ings, the oil-man had drawn his pipe out 



V 


Ferrying. 





r 



Plowing. 


4 



Planting Rice 



THE EMPEROR 


133 


and was lighting the tiny bowl (the stems 
seem to be far more important than the 
bowl for they are at least a foot long, 
while the bowl is never more than an inch 
in diameter) when the ferry docked. 
When he had finished he was astounded 
to find that the blind man had reached 
down, picked up the bag (for he, too, had 
noticed the sound of money), and had 
already started off the ferry. The oil- 
seller had rushed after the thief and re¬ 
monstrated, but to no avail. 

Onlookers had championed the blind 
man, for how could a man who was both 
blind and a cripple steal from a man who 
was in possession of his five senses? So 
much haranguing had followed that a 
good citizen had decided they should all 
go before the magistrate of the village, 
who was a man of fairness and sound 
judgment. 

After hearing the case, this good man 
retired to his study for a few minutes of 
clear thinking. On returning in a short 


134 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


while, to the surprise of every one present, 
a servant accompanied him bearing in his 
arms a large brass bowl filled with cold 
water. This, at a sign from his master, 
the servant placed in the center of the 
room. Without explanation, the magis¬ 
trate next ordered that the bag of money 
be emptied into the vessel. In a short 
time oil floated on the surface of the water, 
much to the joy of the oil-man and to the 
great consternation of the onlookers who 
had defended the blind man so vigorously. 
The hands of the two men were next ex¬ 
amined. There was not a vestige of oil 
to be seen on those of the cripple, but those 
of the oil-vender were covered with grease 
spots ingrained in the skin, for he had had 
no opportunity to wash them. 

At another time, this same magistrate 
was awakened from his afternoon nap by 
two men talking to the world at large in 
heated tones, and holding between them a 
bolt of very valuable lace. Both claimed 
ownership. The wise man calmly sug- 


THE EMPEROR 


135 


gested that the bolt be cut into two parts, 
since ownership could not be decided. The 
eagerness and satisfaction showed so 
plainly on one face that the lace was im¬ 
mediately awarded the other man, for ex¬ 
perience had taught the judge that no man 
would be so willing to divide valuables, 
were they really his. 

In such interesting villages, where rice¬ 
growing is the main occupation, nights 
were spent by the travelers from the 
“ Segul ” to Seoul, housed in one of the 
many small inns. The ox was fed his tub¬ 
ful of boiled bean-mash and housed under 
an adjoining roof. These animals will eat 
no other food, and the upkeep of any stock 
is no small problem, for a great deal of fuel 
is required to cook the fodder. Obedient 
to habit, each member of the family went 
into the open before retiring for the night, 
to assure himself that the beacon burned 
brightly on the mountain peak in that par¬ 
ticular district and all was well. 

It has been said that, in Korea, a 


136 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

traveler cannot go ten miles in any direc¬ 
tion without being able to see one of the 
higher peaks of the region. Knowing this 
to be true, one of the old rulers devised a 
signal system. Bonfires were started at 
dusk in the South, and the signal was 
picked up and repeated at certain specified 
peaks, so that, from the palace in Seoul, 
he could look out upon South Mountain 
and know whether all was well by the 
presence or absence of a fire. No man 
might light his fire until he had seen the 
signal from the next peak south. The 
northern fires were not so important, for 
there were no covetous nations or warring 
tribes in that direction. 


CHAPTER X 


THE CAPITAL 

After more days of continuous walk¬ 
ing, the party finally reached its destina¬ 
tion at dawn, which was the best time to 
dispose of any produce that had been 
brought to sell. 

The markets of Seoul were filled with 
carts, oxen, and jiggies laden with every 
kind of food. Here the street-venders 
had come together, and were bargaining 
shrewdly for their day’s stock, for more 
food is sold by peddling from house to 
house than is bought from the markets as 
they are known in the West. 

Sightseeing began for the folk from the 
countryside as soon as their load was dis¬ 
posed of, for the actual period of stay was 
short, so much time had been consumed in 
travel. The palace-grounds could be seen 

137 


138 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


from afar only, but the colors delighted 
the boy’s heart. He had never seen painted 
structures before, the royal edict proclaim¬ 
ing such adornment for royal use only. 
The palace was like an elaborate and glori¬ 
fied Korean house, the audience-chamber 
occupying the center at one end of the 
court and being at least four feet higher 
than the rest of the structures. 

Immediately before this chamber was a 
large flat stone, the thing dearest to the 
commoner’s heart. Palace-grounds meant 
to the majority no more than the resting- 
place for this stone on which, when the 
Emperor still reigned, any case could be 
placed if the litigant was not satisfied 
with judgment rendered by the magistrate 
in his district. Any ruler would be much 
loved by his people who could devise a 
means by which his personal attention 
could be brought to so humble a thing as 
the problem of a commoner. 

Directly across the city is South Moun¬ 
tain. On its summit at a specified time of 


THE CAPITAL 


139 


day the appellant in the case was required 
to build a bonfire, which signified that a 
magistrate’s decree was appealed to the 
crown. The signal was seen by the 
Emperor, who then consented to hear the 
case. Runners were then dispatched to 
bring to the palace information regarding 
the controversy, which the appellant car¬ 
ried with him fully written out. His 
Highness then reviewed the case, the un¬ 
derstanding being that whatever judg¬ 
ment was returned, it would be absolutely 
final. 

It would naturally be thought that such 
appeals would have been too numerous for 
attention, and yet, when this procedure 
was the custom, there were very few who 
actually took advantage of it. The natives 
are characteristically modest, so such pre¬ 
sumption had entered few of their heads, 
however important or unfair the case may 
have seemed to them. 

Mulberry Palace is across the city, but 
one must see this huge palace that was 


140 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

built in the seventeenth century and yet 
was uninhabited by any member of the 
royal family. Just as it was being com¬ 
pleted, a snake fell off the massive outer 
gate. In this country, as in most others, 
the snake is the symbol of evil. The fact 
that one had even been so near as to get 
on the gate was so odious that no royal 
individual has ever had the courage to 
defy superstition. 

Following this same road the Peking 
Pass is reached; this is the Western city 
limit. The pass is typical of the beautiful 
granite openings flanked by the range of 
mountains with their blue haze. It is al¬ 
ways one of interest to the native, for it 
brings back to him all of the glories of 
the days gone by. It derives its name 
from the fact that the road was really 
used by the caravans that passed between 
China and Seoul. 

Annually, the respective emperors 
would pay court to each other by sending 
long caravans with every describable fruit 



Grinding the Village Grain 




Intricately Carved White Marble Pagoda. 








THE CAPITAL 


141 


and delicacy, silks, ivories, and other 
precious things. It is a well-known fact 
that, when these caravans started, there 
would be hundreds of camels and donkeys 
loaded with the cargo. At the end of the 
long trip, however, there would be not 
more than fifty animals bearing only the 
most personal gifts. The attendants had 
feasted most heartily on the edibles, and 
bartered with the folk of the wayside until 
their load was reduced to only those 
precious things that they dared not touch. 

There is still a park in the capital which 
is called Pagoda Park, after a beautiful 
white marble pagoda, the gift of one of 
the Chinese empresses to the Korean em¬ 
press of that time. Because of the dif¬ 
ference in size as well as prestige of the 
countries, the messengers from the Chinese 
court felt themselves superior. It was at 
this pass, where great stone-posts have 
since been erected, that these arrogant 
couriers halted and delivered their gifts 
and messages. They could not allow 


142 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

their dignity to suffer the humility of go¬ 
ing farther into the capital of a country 
so much smaller than their motherland. 

The young man of the party was duly 
impressed with these historic sites, but he 
was infinitely more interested in the games 
the children were playing. A new game 
to carry back would be much more valu¬ 
able than the tales he might tell. 

For the first time he saw pitch-penny. 
A shallow hole is scooiDed out of the 
ground and a boy, standing about eight 
or ten feet from this hole, will try to toss 
a number of coins in it. Any coins that 
fall into the hole are his. Of those re¬ 
maining on the ground about, he desig¬ 
nates which he will strike with a leaden 
disc which he has. Should he strike the 
indicated coin, they are all his; should he 
fail, the opportunity then falls to his rival. 

A variation of battledore and shuttle¬ 
cock was also seen. The shuttlecock is 
made of a coin wrapped in paper, which is 
twisted in such a manner that the shuttle- 


THE CAPITAL 


143 


cock will always fall through the air, coin 
downward. The improvised battledore is 
the side of the foot, and no little practice 
is required before the player can balance 
himself, hopping about on one foot, and 
keeping the shuttlecock in the air with the 
other. 

While the older travelers discussed the 
history of the site before them, the boy 
took his opportunity to join the group of 
children squatting in a corner telling 
stories of “ tokgabis,” imps of mischief, 
who make life a burden to most house¬ 
wives and children. There are always 
stories of these imps who promise wealth 
to those with whom they work. Their 
victim commits the deed required by the 
terms of a compact, but the promise fails 
and the man finally dies. 

There are other stories that tell of a 
child’s punishment by the crash of thun¬ 
der, which is another form that these imps 
may assume. To protect themselves from 
the charms of these spirits a bit of silver, 


144 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

or something red in color, or a bit of tree 
struck by lightning is carried, and a child’s 
pocket will commonly contain one of these 
things, for a “ tokgabi ” is the Korean 
child’s “ Boogie Man.” 

The favorite stories are those of animals 
that have the power of assuming the shape 
of a human; changelings, so to speak. 
The fox, tiger, wild boar, and toad are 
always bad. When any of these animals 
assume human shape, it is to perform 
malicious tricks. The favorite themes are 
of a fox turning into a woman and steal¬ 
ing some silver candlesticks for a party 
that the foxes are giving; and of the wild 
boar that drinks water that has lain in a 
human skull for twenty years. This boar 
immediately assumes the shape of a man, 
who then bewitches almost an entire vil¬ 
lage, but a stray dog crosses his path one 
day, and the boar immediately resumes his 
original shape, scampering quickly to¬ 
wards the mountains while the good peo¬ 
ple go to the house he has been occupy- 


THE CAPITAL 


145 


ing and recover the grain and money 
which they have given so foolishly, while 
charmed. The rabbit, dragon, and tor¬ 
toise are always good creatures, and any 
stories woven around them have to do 
with kindnesses. For example, a man lies 
starving by the roadside when he is ac¬ 
costed, carried to a beautiful home near 
by, and nourished to health. He leaves 
when fully recovered in strength and, after 
regaining his fortune (for these animals 
can exercise a good influence over the fu¬ 
ture), returns to thank and reward these 
kind people. Imagine his consternation to 
find no such building as he remembered 
in the vicinity. After much futile search 
he realizes that a family of rabbits had 
taken on human form and cared for him. 

Almost every district has, in its history, 
been the site of battle, and stories of the 
battlefield are in every boy’s repertoire. 
There is the well-known one about the 
siege of Kong-Ju. 

Rebels were encamped without the city 


146 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


wall, and, on the last night, a star from 
the skies had fallen into the besieged city, 
an ill omen which the rebels interpreted as 
favorable for their side. Feeling victory 
inevitable, they decided to wait until morn¬ 
ing before breaking down the gates. Dur¬ 
ing the night, however, the guards were 
startled by the ascent of the fallen star. 
This news was rushed to the general who 
was so impressed by the reversal of the 
judgment of the heavens that he at once 
ordered the troops to make ready, and in 
a few hours the rebels decamped. 

What really happened was that the 
general within the city was of a peculiarly 
stubborn nature and omens did not hold 
first place in his consideration. Since the 
rebels had not shown any action after 
dark, he had time to think quietly. He 
knew at the falling of the star that they 
would rush the gates in the morning and 
all would be lost, for the hungry people 
within would never be able to resist con¬ 
centrated attack. Towards midnight an 


THE CAPITAL 


147 


idea came. He would take advantage of 
the wind that had come up. Calling for 
his subordinates, he ordered a large kite 
made; in other quarters, he ordered made 
a large lantern. When all was finished, 
the kite was sent into the air with the 
lighted lantern attached to it. The ruse 
was simple, and yet, knowing the em¬ 
phasis that the ordinary person placed on 
omens, it was not done without founda¬ 
tion. No one was anxious to offend the 
gods. It was this lantern ascending into 
the sky that was seen from the enemy’s 
camp and reported as an ascending star. 
Gods may change their judgments, as well 
as men. 

Still another legend has to do with the 
attacking of Silla. In the beginning of 
the Christian era, Korea was divided into 
three kingdoms: Pakche covering the 
southwest area, Koguryu the north, and 
Silla the southeast. The latter kingdom 
was the most cultured, devoting its en¬ 
ergies to the arts. Even to-day there 


148 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


stands a stone observatory in its old capi¬ 
tal with records of eclipses and the pass¬ 
ing of meteors. In this same city there 
still hangs a huge bell, one of the largest 
in the world, a standing proof of the 
civilization of a peace-loving kingdom. 
The tales of Silla are dear to the native’s 
heart, for, with the help of China, she was 
able to overthrow the other two kingdoms 
which had made innumerable attacks in 
the past, and, for the first time in Korean 
history, in 700 a. d., the whole peninsula 
was one kingdom. During these strug¬ 
gles there were many periods of doubt as 
to which would be the victor. It was in 
one of these crises that the popular legend 
of “ Bamboo Leaves ” sprang up. 

When the end seemed imminent at one 
particular time, a large number of war¬ 
riors appeared who were like ordinary 
men but had ears of bamboo leaves. These 
newcomers routed the enemy and saved 
the day. The next morning bamboo leaves 
were found strewn over the grave of the 


THE CAPITAL 


149 


father of the ruling king, showing that the 
spirit of the father had come to the son’s 
help. At another time the army was 
saved by tortoises that massed themselves 
together in a line and allowed the warriors 
to cross the waters by stepping on their 
backs. 

These legends are fanciful, but are al¬ 
ways built about a fact of history. So 
even the small boy knows the history of 
his country, however much he may elabo¬ 
rate on the folk-lore of the conquests, and 
he is always aware of just how much is 
truth. 

The shops in the city come in for the 
just appreciation of all visitors from the 
Segul, for in the country such establish¬ 
ments are unknown. The visitor wonders 
how commodities are procured, and can 
never understand until he sees a “ Chang ” 
day. 

For five days of the week the village 
is dormant. The road is filled with chil¬ 
dren at play, perhaps, but their elders are 


150 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


busy in the fields or by the streams. On 
the sixth day, at daybreak, the farmers, 
peddlers, and artisans begin to arrive. 
By noon, the village is bustling with noise 
and business. Each has spread his wares 
on the ground and a great bartering fol¬ 
lows, with much loud talk and gesticula¬ 
tion. It is the one time of the week in 
which the pent-up sociability of each man 
finds vent. Industrious housewives sell or 
trade food for thread, needles, and other 
necessities. Grain is given for a shovel. 
Little money is exchanged, for it is both 
scarce and in such circumstances unneces¬ 
sary, since one can barter for everything 
needed in simple and frugal homes. 

In the cities, however, there are real 
shops, small and dimly lighted often, but, 
nevertheless, adequate. The shopkeeper 
sits on a raised floor with his stock ar¬ 
ranged on shelves about him. We realize 
that the bartering of the countryside has 
left its mark when we hear him arguing 
price with the customer. A native knows 


THE CAPITAL 


151 


what the value of an article is, and, re¬ 
gardless of how much more the shop¬ 
keeper has demanded, is able to buy at 
his price. To a Westerner this method of 
doing business is annoying, for at any 
price he feels that perhaps he might have 
done better. When a man seems too eager 
to sell at an offered price, there is a great 
temptation to quote a still lower one. 
This would be considered a most serious 
breach, for a bargain once made must 
hold, regardless of whether or not it is 
satisfactory. With this in mind, the buyer 
always thinks twice before speaking. 
These shops do a thriving business the 
month before New Year’s, but from May 
until November they suffer, for the night 
market offers too much diversion. 

As soon as the sun is down, during this 
time, the street changes its atmosphere. 
On each side of the street men are busy 
putting up poles and tables, over which 
they later stretch thin cotton cloth. By 
the use of tacks and the indispensable 


152 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

straw rope, each has soon devised a small 
booth. These booths are roofless and, 
during the six weeks of the rainy season, 
in the summer, business is suspended the 
greater part of the time. Anything may 
be purchased at this market, which opens 
at sundown and closes at midnight. In 
one section are clothes, shoes, piece goods; 
in another tempting fruits; in still another 
dried foodstuffs, vegetables, condiments, 
and fresh fish. 

The waters of Korea are unusually 
alive, and dried fish are furnished both 
China and Japan through the export 
trade, and yet, throughout the seasons, 
there is an abundance on the market at a 
very reasonable sum. It is not unusual 
to see at these markets men, with jiggies 
of fish or vegetables, who have walked a 
hundred li, or thirty-three miles, since 
daybreak to sell their loads. 

There is an air about the streets at night 
market time that is almost festive. Every 
one is singing his wares; not simply call- 



. 






A Common Sight in Seoul. 












*• 





Musical Instruments. 






















THE CAPITAL 


153 


ing them, but actually singing with his 
own melody. There is an odor of savory 
soup about, for enterprising women know 
that men who have traveled far must also 
be hungry, and there are crowds and 
crowds, some looking but many purchas¬ 
ing. All is done with the leisure of the 
East. There is no hurry; a woman may 
spend an hour bargaining for a set of six 
howls. 


CHAPTER XI 


IMPORTANT MILE-STONES 

Three events are mile-stones in every 
Korean’s life: birth, marriage, and death. 
Of the last, which is really the least in 
importance to the person, we have spoken. 
With birth and marriage we shall deal 
now, for marriage marks the end of boy¬ 
hood. 

Birth 

It is commonly said in the West that 
girl babies in the Orient are left to perish. 
This is unfair; the originator of that bit 
of misinformation was probably thinking 
of the time of famine when life of any 
kind seemed of little value indeed. It is 
true that boys in a family are very im¬ 
portant, for the family name must be 
carried on. Were the family to consist 

of girls only, they would be loved and 

154 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 


155 


cared for with tender devotion, but every 
effort would be made that a man-child 
might be given the household. The desire 
is so intense that many really intelligent 
men who are sonless turn to the old super¬ 
stitions, which are, at least, interesting. 

There was an old man in our village 
who had reached the age of fifty before 
taking a wife. This was unusual at the 
outset, for the majority of men are mar¬ 
ried young. This particular man, how¬ 
ever, had been left an orphan at the age 
when most boys are spinning tops, and, 
after much hardship, had succeeded in be¬ 
coming a salt-peddler. Salt is used ex¬ 
tensively in making the universal bean- 
sauce with which every main dish is sea¬ 
soned, and, in villages, could be procured 
only when a vender appeared. It has been 
said that such a peddler could start out 
with a large bag of salt in his jiggy and, 
by traveling in and out of small villages, 
could earn a good profit besides making 
his living for three months. This means 


156 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOBE A 


constant moving, and the man mentioned 
had never been able to remain long enough 
in one village to convince a “ go-between ” 
that he could support a family. After 
many unsuccessful attempts, he made up 
his mind to wait until he had saved enough 
to retire. 

Eventually he settled down, married, 
and looked forward fondly, but vainly, to 
parenthood. After three years of wed¬ 
lock, he was convinced that the burial- 
sites of his mother and father were not 
suitable, and that this had a bearing on 
his misfortune. So the graves were moved 
and monuments erected to the spirits of 
his parents. Huge piles of stones were 
erected before the sentry-posts of his vil¬ 
lage, which resembled totem poles to some 
extent, being carved of the trunks of large 
trees and representing the protecting 
spirits of North, East, South, West, and 
Center. Yet still no heir came. 

The following year he sought the serv¬ 
ices of a “ mudong ” or sorceress. A par- 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 


157 


ticularly successful one was known to live 
with her following in a small secluded set¬ 
tlement, beyond the first pass. A pil¬ 
grimage to this village meant a large ex¬ 
penditure, for, besides a handsome fee, 
there must be elaborate offerings of cakes, 
wines, fruits, and meats for the gods 
whose aid the sorceress invoked. Feel¬ 
ing his modest wealth useless without a 
son, he invited the neighbors to attend a 
ceremonial on the following day in the 
settlement. The greater the audience, the 
better able the sorceress is to work, which, 
in turn, implies the greater the impression 
upon the gods. 

The invitation was received with great 
eagerness, for the ceremonial was a 
longed-for treat. Few people had the 
means for extravagances, and, of those 
few, still fewer believed in the super¬ 
natural powers of these women, who are 
without social status. Consequently, im¬ 
mediately after breakfast the next morn¬ 
ing, villagers were starting to the pass 


158 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


which was about twenty lis distant. My 
brother and I were among the earliest, for 
we intended to see the setting in full array 
before the crowd arrived. 

The village was already in a hubbub 
when we reached it. The altars had all 
been arranged, even the huge candles 
lighted. Apparently the mudong’s client 
had ordered no expense spared, so intent 
was he on regaining the favor of the gods 
whom he must have displeased. 

The buildings were the ordinary Korean 
house with the “ maru ” so constructed 
that the altars could be accommodated as 
occasion arose. In this room the walls, in¬ 
stead of being papered in plain white, 
were covered with vivid scrolls. The 
houses had been built to form a semicircle; 
in place of a small individual court for 
each house, there was only one large main 
court, shared by every one. Each maru 
ran tangent to the arc, and, when the 
altars were in position any one standing 
in the center of the court could see every 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 159 

one else. The main altar, at which the 
sorceress was to perform, stood in the 
center of the arc. 

Ten different altars greeted us as we 
stepped through the heavy gate, and the 
sight was impressive, however supersti¬ 
tious it was. Were there nothing but the 
candles, we should have been duly im¬ 
pressed, for we had never seen such large 
ones before, much less any that were 
dyed red—the color used to keep away the 
household imps. Each altar itself was 
simple. Three large frames containing 
vivid prints of as many gods had been 
placed against the back wall of the room. 
A raised platform stood before these 
frames and, on it, were, for each deity, a 
brass urn with smoking incense, a pair of 
brass chop-sticks to stir these embers, and 
a pair of very large brass candlesticks 
holding the lighted candles. On a lower 
pedestal rested countless brass stands and 
bowls which were piled artistically with 
every imaginable sweetmeat, fruit, and 


160 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


meat. Cups of wine stood at the base of 
these offerings, and the attendants, who 
cared for the incense urns, emptied these 
cups from time to time before the altar, 
chanting at each such performance. None 
of the food thus displayed was wasted; the 
gods must satisfy their appetites with the 
odors alone, the food being kept for more 
appreciative tastes. What else except a 
big feast would persuade the solicitous 
neighbors to tramp over forty lis of rough 
mountainous road? 

The main building was larger and, in¬ 
stead of three deities, the number had in¬ 
creased to six. In addition to the offer¬ 
ings common to the other altars, there 
were, here, two large wild boars which had 
been barbecued for the day. To the left, 
we noticed an earthen pot about ten inches 
in diameter and a foot in height. This 
was filled to the brim with water that was 
now sacred, for it had stood before the 
altar the entire previous night. To the 
right were the musical instruments. 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 161 

Music in Korea has a history of fifteen 
hundred years to its credit and yet has 
never been cultivated as an art, for those 
who could contribute most were not pos¬ 
sessed of as much leisure as is needed. 
Long practice is required to perform the 
classical music well. The movement is 
slow, and the notes are sustained so long 
at times that a Westerner wonders if the 
singer will recover her breath. Most ac¬ 
companiments of vocal renditions are em¬ 
bodied in the drums alone. These are 
usually shaped like an hour-glass. The 
surfaces are held taut over each end by 
leather thongs on the sides. The per¬ 
former taps one end rhythmically with a 
flattened piece of bamboo, striking the 
other end with the flat of her hand. 

The music as sung by the laborers is 
most appealing to an uncultivated ear. 
Whenever work is done, it is performed 
by ten or twelve workers with a leader 
whose sole duty is to chant a strain of 
four syllables, which is repeated by the 


162 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


chorus as they all exert themselves to¬ 
gether. This seems like a waste of time, 
but it has its good points, for it is only the 
short rests while the leader chants that 
break the drudgery of the very long hours 
that they work. There is the possibility 
of the leader having some initiative, for 
instead of singing the common chants, he 
may improvise as he goes along, adding 
hits of humor that make the work play. 

The only wind instrument is the flute, 
which dates its origin hack to the Silla 
dynasty. There are no bands in Korea. 
The nearest thing to a musical instrument 
that the young boy may own is the reed 
whistle that he can make in the spring, 
and he has devised a method of fastening 
two whistles together so that double notes 
are produced, making music of no mean 
nature. 

By the side of the drum near the altar 
lay a round flat gong and near it the small 
padded mallet with which it is rhythmic¬ 
ally pounded. A zither completed the 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 163 

group. This is an instrument at least five 
feet in length and is triple-strung like the 
piano. The strings are of gut, however, 
and the tone is appealing, making the 
Westerner think of a cello that is being 
plucked. The performer kneels before 
the instrument, tuning the strings by 
shifting high bridges made of leather. 
Each song has its range, to which the 
strings must be tuned. The plucking is 
done with a slender bamboo pick. 

By the time our inspection tour of the 
setting of the ceremonial was finished the 
crowd had arrived, and, with an appro¬ 
priately large audience, the “ mudong ” 
entered the main altar-room. She was 
clad in a bright red gown with flowing 
sleeves and a wide belt of gold embroidery 
from which were suspended numerous 
small decorated bags. Around her head 
was a tight head-dress of the same em¬ 
broidery. We boys were disappointed. 
Her costume was ordinary, for a person 
of supernatural powers. We had ex- 


164 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


pectecl some of the magic to be embodied 
in the dress. 

With a low bow to the man who had 
purchased her services for the day, she 
turned and walked across the room slowly, 
as though assembling her strength. She 
then turned to the altar and, stopping be¬ 
fore the central figures, made several 
obeisances, rubbing her palms together in 
supplication. A low monotonous under¬ 
tone could be heard; her magic had 
started. The orchestra had taken their 
places and the thump, thump of the drum 
accompanied the chant which was under- 

i 

stood by no one but the most advanced of 
her followers. In a few minutes the un¬ 
dertone had become almost strident and 
she added to her performance a jumping 
movement. From time to time she 
stopped long enough to cast a fruit or 
two before the gods, or for an attendant 
to refresh her by sponging her face with 
cold water. Other than this there was no 
interruption and this performance was 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 165 

kept up for hours, the length of time in 
all such cases depending upon the remu¬ 
neration. 

After witnessing such a ceremonial one 
can readily believe, that even though the 
gods turn a deaf ear, the woman is really 
entitled to some of the money, at least; 
she has worked hard, although it has been 
wasted energy. 

When she seemed near exhaustion, the 
great jar of sacred water was ordered 
brought to the center of the room. An 
attendant produced a sheet of white paper 
which he proceeded to hold tightly 
stretched over the mouth of the jar. Very 
carefully, even laboriously, she balanced 
herself upon the rim of the vessel, chant¬ 
ing and shifting her feet the while. This 
was the climax of the ritual, the signif¬ 
icance being that so great were her powers 
she was treading water as easily as she 
had walked on the shiny pine floor. The 
orchestra joined in the chant at this won¬ 
derful feat. The air was filled with a 


166 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

stridency that dinned in the ears, and every 
one was relieved when the tension ended. 
There was then a general clamor. The 
boars were carried to the low table that 
stretched the entire length of the court. 
The many stands of sweetmeats and 
fruits, all foods, in fact, were brought 
from the altars, and visitors and host be¬ 
came one at the great feast. 

The faith that men such as our host 
show is remarkable, even when their ap¬ 
peals fail. They spend a great deal of 
money to achieve their desires, and, how¬ 
ever bitterly disappointed, they never 
blame the cult. They simply explain 
failure as the result of an insufficient ex¬ 
penditure, and since no one will ever put 
his whole fortune at the disposal of such 
a sorceress, the cult is safe from ever hav¬ 
ing to prove its powers. 

Driven at last to a thing he had vowed 
he would never do, our old neighbor 
pledged himself to a one-hundred-day 
period of worship in a Buddhist temple. 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 167 

Everything had failed to bring him a son. 
He had made no secret of his violent dis¬ 
approval of Buddhism, and in a period of 
introspection had decided that Buddha 
was punishing him. There was nothing to 
do but seek the good graces of Buddhist 
deities. To this day the villagers contend 
that it was this decision that brought him 
a son: the gods were willing to forgive a 
man who was humble enough to admit his 
mistakes. On the following birthday of 
the great Buddha there was born a son 
unto the repentant man. It goes without 
saying that the most lavish gifts were 
showered upon the particular temple 
where he worshipped, after this event, and 
the man became a most devout Buddhist. 

Buddhist teachings concerning conduct 
during the first week of the child’s life 
were followed most strictly. There could 
be no laundering throughout the period, 
for fear the baby’s body might bear the 
markings of the washing-stick. No visi¬ 
tors were allowed, for fear of evil spirits 


168 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


that would certainly accompany them. A 
straw rope intertwined with red-peppers 
was hung over the doorway to frighten 
those spirits which could travel about 
alone. No member of the household was 
allowed to leave the house, for were he to 
cross any puddle, death would take the 
child. Choice food was carefully pre¬ 
pared daily and set at the door, with chop¬ 
sticks. This dish was to divert the atten¬ 
tion of any evil spirit hovering about. 

Most of these extreme superstitions are 
smiled at nowadays, but remnants are 
found to persist just as the influence of 
primitive superstitions is found among 
some Westerners. For instance, an ex¬ 
pected baby in a Korean home has no 
layette awaiting it. This is intentional. 
Having an outfit ready indicates that it 
is taken for granted the family is to be 

blessed. This attitude of certainty is too 

•/ 

presumptuous, and the family is apt to be 
punished by the death of the child. Con¬ 
sequently, the spirit of humility is 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 169 


adopted; the blessing will be most grate¬ 
fully accepted, but no preparation made. 

This may seem fanciful to the West¬ 
erner, but there are not many who have 
not seen some one “ knock on wood ” after 
saying something that takes too much for 
granted. The believers in this supersti¬ 
tion are not always the uninformed, by 
any means. The two precautions are in 
the same category. The Korean mother 
of to-day may not actually believe that, 
were she to prepare the layette, the baby 
would die of a certainty, but, like her 
Western sister who taps on wood, she is, 
she feels, guarding against the possibility. 

There is no extra celebration at the time 
of the birth of a child. This is reserved 
for the hundredth-dav feast to which the 
friends and relatives flock from far and 
wide. Gifts are brought at this time and 
the house is the scene of a great feast 
centering around the newcomer, who, by 
this time, has in his wardrobe every con¬ 
ceivable garment. 


170 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


The Korean child is formally named at 
this function. Ordinarily, there are three 
parts to the name, the first being the sur¬ 
name, the second a name chosen by the 
parents, and the third a name which is 
common to every individual in one genera¬ 
tion of a family. 

My own name furnishes an example. It 
is not, as the title-page of this book indi¬ 
cates, Ilhan New; rather, it is New II 
Han. In common with other Oriental 
boys, I altered my name in the United 
States in order to conform to Occidental 
custom. If I had not done so, my teachers 
and friends would have addressed me as 
Mr. Han, although my family name is 
New; and no one likes to have his identity 
confused in this way. When I returned to 
the Orient, I resumed the use of my native 
name in its natural order, though my 
American friends still address me as be¬ 
fore. 

The Korean surname is generally the 
name of a thing, animate or inanimate, 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 171 

such as horse, field, king, pear-tree; or is 
descriptive of a character, quality, or con¬ 
dition, as for example, yellow, white, love, 
or even fool. My surname, New, is the 
sound the Korean utters when pronounc¬ 
ing the Chinese pictorial character mean¬ 
ing willow-tree. That is why, in my busi¬ 
ness, I employ as a kind of trade-mark a 
picture of a willow-tree, the black trunk 
of which is drawn in the form of the Chi¬ 
nese character mentioned. The Chinese, 
perhaps you know, do not have an alpha¬ 
bet, building up words out of letters as you 
do. Instead they use what are known as 
ideographs in their printing and writing, 
that is to say, pictures or designs that rep¬ 
resent not merely words but ideas. We 
Koreans have an alphabet, but only of 
late have we tended to use it extensively 
for literary purposes. For ages we have 
written in Chinese and spoken in Korean; 
hence the influence of the Chinese even in 
the matter of our names. 

The willow-tree is highly honored 


j 


172 WHEN 1 WAS A EOT IN KOREA 

among our people, and is a symbol of good 
qualities, ineluding peace, contentment, 
character, integrity, dignity, veneration, 
age, etc.; so my family lias never regretted 
that its name was theirs. 


In the second part of my name, which 
distinguishes me from the other members 
of my family, there is an element of 
humor. My father had an orderly but 
unromantic way of naming his sons, of 
whom there were five. I, being the first 
son, was named II, meaning “ one ” or 
“ the first.” The other boys were, in the 
order of their arrival, named E, Som, 
Sar, and O, meaning second, third, fourth. 



IMPORTANT MILESTONES 


173 


and fifth. It may have made it easy for 
Father to avoid confusion, and certainly 
simplified the problem of naming us, but 
my brothers seem not to have relished be¬ 
ing numbered for, in time, he gave all ex¬ 
cept myself new names; I preferred to 
keep mine. In America I consolidated 
my two given names into one name, Ilhan, 
because we address each other by both 
given names, not merely one, as you do. 

With us as with you, the surname fol¬ 
lows down through family history without 
change; but the third part is predeter¬ 
mined, also. Unnumbered years ago a 
system was devised whereby wise and ven¬ 
erable scholars decreed names which 
should distinguish the members of one 
generation from another, supposedly dat¬ 
ing from the first man to bear the sur¬ 
name. In the case of the New family, 
which applies to other branches of the 
family as well as our own, all the boys of 
this generation have Han for their third 
name. (Some families place the prede- 


174 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOBE A 

termined name in the middle instead of 
at the end.) Han is a famous name both 
in Korea and China, and has been borne 
by kings and dynasties. The large and 
historic river on which the Korean capital, 
Seoul, is located is named Han. 

So now'you see that my name means, 
“ the first Han in the Willow-Tree fam¬ 
ily.” Thus we carry in our names a kind 
of genealogical history. If a learned old 
man were to ask me my name and then 
inquire where my family originated (a 
question which every Korean expects to 
be asked and is supposed to be able to 
answer), he would be able to establish my 
relationship to any other person of my 
stock, for he would know the family from 
which I sprang, the generation to which 
I belonged, and the name which dis¬ 
tinguished me from my brothers. 

Recently when I was traveling on a 
small steamer plying the coast, the steward 
called on me. He had noted my name on 
the passenger list, and had observed that 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 175 

our surnames and the names indicating 
our generations were identical. He learned 
from me that the ancient family strong¬ 
hold was the same in both cases, and so 
he knew that we were cousins. The re¬ 
moteness of our relationship was not a 
matter of concern in a land where much 
stress is laid on family ties. I profited by 
his discovery of our distant kinship in the 
assistance he gave me in finding a good 
hotel in the city towards which we were 
bound. 

The naming of a child is rendered easier 
by the fact that genealogy is carefully 
recorded, hence a parent need never slip 
in determining the name which is to be 
applied to any generation. And any man 
can, by reference to these records, trace 
his place in the family history by this 
foreordained part of his name. 

When the baby has his first birthday 
he becomes two years of age, for, even 
though he be born on New Year’s eve, he 
is accounted a year old. This birthday is 


176 WHEN I WAS A EOT IN KOREA 


marked by the very important “ voca¬ 
tional ceremonial.” Every one is invited, 
strangers as well as friends, for after the 
great feast it is most important that each 
shall see for himself what vocation the 
child has had the wisdom to choose. 

Among the guests there is at least one 
“ pansu ” or fortune-teller, for he knows 
from experience that the father of the 
child is apt to be most generous on this 
day, even though he have little faith in the 
fortune told. These men are usually blind 
men who know their Book of Divination 
thoroughly. The year, month, day, and 
hour of the child’s birth are told him. 
By certain combinations of this informa¬ 
tion he is able to find a Chinese character 
which gives the key to the specific infor¬ 
mation in the Book. It would be con¬ 
sidered very bad manners, as well as bad 
business, to quote any destiny but the 
best, and these crafty men, at these par¬ 
ticular gatherings, play shamefully upon 
the pride of the father who sees nothing 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 177 

ridiculous in the mention of a future 
career in officialdom for his son. 

A large round table has been made for 
this day and for this one occasion. At the 
appointed time, the young man is placed 
in the center of this table, surrounded by 
many different objects which have been 
placed on the edge about him. These ob- 
j ects are typical of the work in which they 
are most used; for instance, a pen for a 
scholar; a mulberry leaf for a sericul- 
turist; a bunch of herbs for a doctor; a 
hoe for a farmer, and so on until there 
may be counted thirty or forty articles in 
the collection. The performance may take 
a goodly share of the afternoon, for al¬ 
though the ceremony is over as soon as the 
child has crept towards an article and will 
not give it up, he is alone for the first 
time among many guests and refuses to 
be comforted. The custom of carrying 
the child tied to the back may have the 
advantage of insuring the constant atten¬ 
tion of the mother; still it also carries with 


178 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


it the disadvantage of breeding into the 
child the fear of being left alone. 

In my day a child was indeed wise who 
chose the pen, for no higher ambition 
could be cherished than to be a scholar. 
Yet, viewed in the light of childhood, the 
choice is most unfortunate, for from that 
minute on he is reared with the future in 
mind. He cannot play like the ordinary 
child of a commoner, for choosing to be 
a scholar means dignity and quiet from 
the start. Many a parent has watched 
his little son drop the pen and turn to the 
hoe or mulberrv leaf with leaden heart at 
the little fellow’s thoughtlessness. But 
like the gentleman he is, the parent always 
accepts the final choice with the best of 
sportsmanship. Every one feels the choice 
predestined by the gods and, therefore, 
the only one to be followed for a peaceful 
and contented mind. 

Marriage 

The youth of so important a member 



His First Birthday, 







Bride’s Palanquin, Covered with Tiger’s Skin. 







IMPORTANT MILESTONES 


179 


of the family as a son is at the best too 
short, especially if he should happen to 
be the oldest son, for as early as at the 
age of fourteen he is considered eligible 
for marriage. 

To the Western mind this is inconceiv¬ 
able, for a boy of that age can certainly 
know nothing of the responsibilities of a 
household. This is true enough, but, in 
the family system of the East, this is not 
even a problem. The couple continue 
to live with the boy’s parents, nothing else 
would be tolerated, and the hoy’s father 
supports them. The young man continues 
with his schooling or apprenticeship in the 
manner to which he was accustomed be¬ 
fore the great event. As each son is mar¬ 
ried, this procedure takes place, and so 
there are some households of as many as 
thirty to fifty members. Where there is 
enough wealth, the problem of sustenance 
solves itself. In less fortunate circum¬ 
stances, however, the sons have not learned 
to take the heavy responsibility of sup- 


180 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


porting their families, and the burden of 
the father is heavy. At his death the en¬ 
tire responsibility of family welfare rests 
upon the shoulders of the oldest son living. 

The situation would be a trying one but 
for the great reverence shown the elders, 
and it is unusual to find an old man with 
such worries. There is never a case of 
a wealthy son living in luxury with par¬ 
ents who are not enjoying the same life. 
The older members of the family receive 
the best the family coffers can afford, and 
in very few countries are there so many 
old men and women who have nothing to 
do but to eat and sleep, even though the 
income be meager. 

As in some other countries of the Old 
World, the young people have no choice 
in the matter of their mates. Selection is 
left entirely to the judgment of the par¬ 
ents who make all arrangements through 
a “ go-between,” usually a middle-aged 
widow who makes her living by pairing 
off eligibles. This method is not so hard 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 181 

as it sounds. Parents are anxious to make 
as suitable and happy marriages for their 
sons and daughters as possible, and sepa¬ 
rations are practically unknown, especially 
for incompatibility. 

When a youth is ready for the married 
state, word goes abroad, and soon the “ go- 
between ” pays the family a most formal 
visit, during which she does nothing but 
praise the virtues of the son. At the end 
of this visit she tactfully suggests that 
such a learned and gifted son as is in the 
family should certainly bring merited 
blessings upon his parents by taking into 
the home a bride. It is then the mother’s 
turn to protest against such lavish praise; 
and, even though she be bursting with 
pride, she must never say anything but 
the most derogatory things of her un¬ 
worthy offspring. This is the Oriental 
custom in speaking of anything that 
belongs to one. The idea probably orig¬ 
inated in the marked modesty and humil¬ 
ity of the people, and by speaking of their 


182 WHEN 1 WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

children in harsh terms they indirectly im¬ 
ply that such as they could not have any¬ 
thing really worthy. No one ever smiles 
when his host apologizes for such poor 
food, even though the meal be a feast and 
the board groaning with the most expen¬ 
sive and exquisite delicacies. 

Here the “ go-between ” has the good 
taste to depart. She has learned that it 
is well to make a suggestion and give it 
time to take root. On her next visit she 
makes her first business stroke by going 
over the list of eligible girls with her 
hostess. Of these there is usually one par¬ 
ticularly suited for the boy in question, 
and so many good points are brought out 
in which the mother is at once interested. 

Once the ice is broken between them, 
the two women discuss family records, 
wealth of the families concerned, and the 
other essentials very freely and thor¬ 
oughly, and the business manager knows 
that it is for her own good that the truth 
be told about all details, for upon proof 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 183 


of any deceit the match may be annulled, a 
stain that no match-maker wishes to live 
to see. She outwardly shows every sign 
of dubiousness as to whether the young 
girl’s family will entertain a thought of 
marriage. Parting with such a jewel 
would mean the sacrifice of the family’s 
happiness. The mother beseeches her at 
least to try, and seems so upset at the 
uncertainty that the “ go-between ” finally 
consents to undertake the difficult task of 
persuasion. She knows that the more 
hopeless she can make the match seem, the 
greater will be her remuneration. 

As she climbs into her chair, a small 
curtained compartment that is carried by 
two men, she chuckles with satisfaction. 
She has not been in this business for ten 
years without having learned some les¬ 
sons. For one thing, she has learned that 
it is a wise procedure to assure herself that 
the boy’s family is of better financial 
standing than the girl’s, and that alone 
has a great deal of weight. After many 


184 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

visits the woman announces the families 
both satisfied, and preparations are made 
for the wedding. 

Contrary to Western custom, the home 
of the bridegroom is the one that is re¬ 
sponsible for the feast and ceremony. No 
festivities take place at the bride’s home, 
which has more work than is possible for 
hands to finish. The silks and cottons 
must be dyed and ironed before being 
used, in the case of colored clothes, and this 
is the one time when the skirts and little 
jackets are made in pretty shades. A 
wedding in a village means a contribution 
from each villager. Each neighbor sends 
his gift of meat, rice, vegetable, grains, 
and all other necessities for the prolonged 
celebration. 

On the day of the wedding, if this has 
not been done at the engagement, the boy’s 
hair is brought to the top of his head and 
twisted into the knot which means arrival 
at manhood. If a man be unmarried at 
even the late age of twenty, his hair must 


\ 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 185 


remain down his back; he is still a boy, 
with only those privileges accorded the 
children. 

On his wedding-day he dons a long 
brown coat which has been made for the 
occasion. On his head he wears a small, 
brimless, horsehair hat, on each side of 
which is fastened a small horsehair wing. 
The outfit is that of a courtier and a wed¬ 
ding is the only occasion on which a com¬ 
moner might even dare think of wearing it. 
This concession was granted by one of the 
old rulers, who felt the importance of mar¬ 
riage so great that the highest honor in 
dress should be allowed the groom. The hat 
was especially devised for courtiers. The 
wings were provided to suggest that any 
rumor of disloyalty should be stopped in¬ 
stantly and taken to the king. High 
boots, made of very thick felt, complete 
the groom’s costume. 

When ready, he is lifted by two friends 
into an uncomfortable saddle fastened on 
the back of a spotless white pony. These 


186 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


saddles are very high and the boy pre¬ 
serves his balance only with the aid of two 
friends walking at his sides, while another 
leads the little beast. This ensemble is 
followed by two other friends who carry 
a goose and a gander, as symbols of fidel¬ 
ity. 

At the bride’s home every one has been 
busy getting the bride ready, for the 
groom must not find that he has to wait. 
Her little face has been painted with a 
thick coating of wet powder. On each 
cheek a large spot of carmine has been 
painted. This is set off by a similar red 
spot in the center of her forehead. Her 
hair has been put up for the first time; it 
is coiled low on her neck and shines from 
the oil that has been applied. As with the 
groom, the clothes that grace her body 
are fashioned after the usual court attire, 
and are of beautiful silk, tinted often a 
faint shell-pink. Her eyes are sealed shut, 
for modesty forbids that she see anybody 
or anything on this day. 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 187 


When the groom’s party arrives, the 
members are conducted to another wing of 
the house and given light refreshments. 
While they are thus enjoying themselves, 
the bride is carried out bodily to the wait¬ 
ing palanquin, which has been decorated 
for the event with a tiger’s skin, which, in 
ordinary times, can be used only by ladies 
of the court. Four men, wearing small 
round felt hats and loose blue coats, carry 
the chair, which is followed by from four 
to six women on foot. These attendants 
have balanced on their heads black lacquer 
trunks containing the trousseau. There is 
an unfortunate custom at this time which 
compels the bride’s family to provide a 
trousseau that will last many years and, 
whether it can be afforded or not, the best 
is provided. The number of these trunks 
ordinarily indicates the wealth of the 
house; in some cases, however, it indicates 
the debts of the parents, for, even though 
they must borrow, an elaborate trousseau 
is considered necessary. The groom’s 


188 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 

party brings up the rear of the wedding 
procession. 

Once at his home, the bride is carried 
from the chair to the bride’s table which 
has been heaped with delicacies. Fruits 
and vegetables have been cut to look like 
butterflies, fish, and many different flow¬ 
ers; there are raw chestnuts peeled and 
cut into fancy shapes; boiled chestnuts, 
and sugared ones; meats and fowl; elab¬ 
orate bowls of kim-chee; every ornamental 
dish has been pressed into service. All 
this is for a frightened little girl who can 
see nothing and who can eat only what is 
offered her. 

The bridegroom is now led to his place 
opposite his bride, whom he meets for the 
first time, but whom he does not even dare 
look at, so great is his embarrassment. 
Each has two attendants who tell them 
to bow low to each other three times. A 
dainty morsel is then touched to the lips 
of the bride and then to those of the 
groom, symbolizing the harmony of the 


IMPORTANT MILESTONES 189 

many meals they will have together in the 
years to follow. This is a peculiar con¬ 
tradiction literally, for, as has been said 
earlier, unless poverty is marked, each 
member of the family eats alone. 

The performance of the Red and Blue 
Cord comes next. In the center of the 
table has been placed a large bowlful of 
honey-water, in which is a coiled mass of 
red and blue silken cord. The end of the 
blue is drawn out by one of the bride’s at¬ 
tendants and tied to a small cup contain¬ 
ing honey-water colored a faint pink, and 
in which a few pine-nut kernels are float¬ 
ing. In his turn, one of the groom’s at¬ 
tendants draws out the red cord and fast¬ 
ens it to a similar cup on his side of the 
table. Each attendant touches his respec¬ 
tive cup to the lips of the bride and groom 
at the same time; the cups are then inter¬ 
changed and again touched to the lips. 
This interchanging is kept up until the 
threads are thoroughly interwoven. This 
is symbolic of the closeness of their lives 


190 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN KOREA 


to be lived in the future. To the West¬ 
erner, it might foretell the inextricable 
tangle of the marriage state. 

When the cords are sufficiently inter¬ 
woven the two geese, which have been car¬ 
ried by the two friends all of this time, are 
thrown into the air, signifying that the 
new couple’s ship has set sail upon a 
happy married life. 

The bride and groom are then led be¬ 
fore the mother-in-law and father-in-law, 
who are seated to receive this formal in¬ 
dication of their new dignity of position 
for, from this minute henceforth, the 
young boy is a man, and the parents take 
the position of elders in the family. As 
for the bride, her days of slight respon¬ 
sibility are over. In a household of little 
means she must do all the work; in a 
wealthy household she must see that the 
work is done properly by the servants. 
Her mother-in-law’s every wish becomes 
her law. In a day a boy and girl become 
a man and woman; childhood is over. 


THE END 
















































